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/~\F all the vulgar superstitions of the half educated, none 
^-^ dies harder than the absurd delusion that there is no 
such thing as ghosts. All the experts, whether spiritual, poeti- 
cal, or scientific, and all the others, non-experts, who have 
bestowed any serious attention upon the subject, know that 
they do exist. But in face of the practically unanimous testi- 
mony of experience and authority, the majority of those who 
take up this book will do so believing that " it's all nonsense." 

There is endless variety of opinion as to what a ghost may 
be. But as to the fact of its existence, whatever it may be, 
there is no longer any serious dispute among honest investi- 
gators. If any one questions this, let him investigate for him- 
self. In six months, possibly in six weeks, or even in six days, 
he will find it impossible to deny the reality of the existence 
of the phenomena popularly entitled ghostly. He may have 
a hundred ingenious explanations of the origin and nature of 
the ghost, but as to the existence of the entity itself there will 
no longer be any doubt. 

This volume is a reprint, with some necessary omissions, of 
the Christmas and New Year's Annuals, published in December 
1 89 1 and January 1892, under the title of "Real Ghost Stories," 
and "More Ghost Stories." An edition of one hundred 
thousand copies of " Real Ghost Stories " was sold in a week, 
and the collection has never been republished. Since 1892 I 
have made so many experiments in the psychic realm, and have 
had so many experiences, that these stories seem to me very 


ancient history indeed. But to the majority they will probably 
be fresh and startling even to the point of incredibility. Whether 
new or old, they are the most popular collection of the kind 
published of late years. 

The later developments of the study which I began in the 
compilation of this collection, are chronicled in the pages of 
" Borderland," a half-crown review of psychic literature and 
phenomena, published every quarter at Mowbray House, 
Norfolk Street, W.C., the first number of which appeared in 
July, 1893. To "Borderland" I refer readers whose interest 
in the subject may be roused by the authentic narratives con- 
tained in this book. 

One word before closing this preface should be said con- 
cerning the perils of investigating the subject. They are great 
enough to explain if not to justify the interdict placed by the 
Roman Church upon all meddling with the subject excepting 
by experts. Demoniac possession, or if you prefer to call it 
mental aberration, occasioned by the apparent control of evil 
spirits, is a horribly real thing, as I can testify of my own obser- 
vation. Ghosts and ghostly phenomena are not things to be 
played with. If you cannot or will not examine the subject 
seriously, you had a thousand times better leave it alone. It 
is unwise for a boy to go fooling round a buzz saw. Anybody 
with a smattering of chemistry can manufacture dynamite, 
but the promiscuous experimenting with high explosives is 
more likely to result in explosions than profit. And if you feel 
disposed to go in " for the fun of the thing " into spiritualism, 
se'ances, etc., every serious investigator has only one word to 
say, and that is DON'T ! 

August, 1897. W. T. STEAD. 




MANY people will object — some have already objected — 
to the subject of this book. It is an offence to 
some to take a ghost too seriously; with others it is a still 
greater offence not to take ghosts seriously enough. One 
set of objections can be paired off against the other; 
neither objection has very solid foundation. The time has 
surely come when the fair claim of ghosts to the impartial at 
tention and careful observation of mankind should no longer 
be ignored. In earlier times people believed in them so much 
that they cut their acquaintance ; in later times people believe 
in them so little that they will not even admit their existence. 
Thus these mysterious visitants have hitherto failed to enter 
into that friendly relation with mankind which many of them 
seem sincerely to desire. But what with the superstitious 
credulity of the one age and the equally superstitious unbelief 
of another, it is necessary to begin from the beginning and to 
convince a sceptical world that apparitions really appear. In 
order to do this it is necessary to insist that your ghost should 
no longer be ignored as a phenomenon of Nature. He has a 
right to be examined and observed, studied and denned, which 
is equal to that of any other natural phenomenon. It is true 
that he is a rather difficult phenomenon ; his comings and 
goings are rather intermittent and fitful, his substance is too 
shadowy to be handled, and he has avoided hitherto equally 
the obtrusive inquisitiveness of the microscope and telescope. 
A phenomenon which you can neither handle nor weigh, 
analyse nor dissect, is naturally regarded as intractable and 
troublesome ; nevertheless, however intractable and trouble- 
some he may be to reduce to any of the existing scientific 
categories, we have no right to allow his idiosyncrasies to de- 
prive him of his innate right to be regarded as a phenomenon. 
As such he will be treated in the following pages, with all the 
respect due to Phenomena whose reality is attested by a suffi- 
cient number of witnesses. There will be no attempt in this 



book to build up a theory of apparitions, or to define the 
true inwardness of a ghost. There will be as many explana- 
tions as there are minds of the significance of the extra- 
ordinary narratives which I have collated from correspondence 
and from accessible records. Leaving it to my readers to 
discuss the rival hypotheses, I will stick to the humbler mission 
of recording facts, from which they can form their own judg- 

The ordinary temper of the ordinary man in dealing with 
ghosts is supremely unscientific, but it is less objectionable 
than that of the pseudo-scientist. The Inquisitor who forbade 
free inquiry into matters of religion because of human de- 
pravity, was the natural precursor of the Scientist who forbids 
the exercise of the reason on the subject of ghosts,on account 
of inherited tendencies to attribute such phenomena to causes 
outside the established order of nature. What difference there 
is, is altogether in favour of the Inquisitor, who at least had 
what he regarded as a divinely constituted authority, compe- 
tent and willing to pronounce final decision upon any subject 
that might trouble the human mind. Science has no such 
tribunal, and when she forbids others to observe and to reflect 
she is no better than a blind fetish. 

Eclipses in old days used to drive whole nations half mad 
with fright. To this day the black disc of the moon no sooner 
begins to eat into the shining surface of the sun than millions 
of savage men feel " creepy," and begin to tremble at the 
thought of the approaching end of the world. But in civilised 
lands even the most ignorant regard an eclipse with imper- 
turbable composure. Eclipses are scientific phenomena 
observed and understood. It is our object to reduce ghosts to 
the same level, or rather to establish the claim of ghosts to be 
regarded as belonging as much to the order of Nature as the 
eclipse. At present they are disfranchised of their natural 
birthright, and those who treat them with this injustice need 
not wonder if they take their revenge in " creeps." 

The third class of objection takes the ground that there is 
something irreligious and contrary to Christianity in the chroni- 
cling of such phenomena. It is fortunate that Mary Magda- 
lene and the early disciples did not hold that theory. So far 
from its being irreligious to ascertain facts, there is a subtle 
impiety in the refusal to face phenomena, whether natural or 
supernatural. Either these things exist or they do not. If 
they do not exist, then obviously there can be no harm in a 
searching examination of the delusion which possessed the 


mind of almost every worthy in the Old Testament, and which 
was constantly affirmed by the authors of the New. If, on the 
other hand, they do exist, and are perceptible under certain 
conditions to our senses, it will be difficult to affirm the im- 
piety of endeavouring to ascertain what is their nature, and what 
light they are able to throw upon the kingdom of the Unseen. 
We have no right to shut our eyes to facts and close our ears 
to evidence merely because Moses forbade the Hebrews to 
allow witches to live, or because some of the phenomena carry 
with them suggestions that do not altogether harmonise with 
the conventional orthodox theories of future life. The whole 
question that lies at bottom is whether this world is divine or 
diabolic. Those who believe it divine are bound by that belief 
to regard every phenomenon as a window through which man 
may gain fresh glimpses of the wonder and the glory of the 
Infinite. In this region, as in all others, faith and fear go ill 

It is impossible for any impartial man to read the narratives 
of which the present book is composed without feeling that we 
have at least one hint or suggestion of quite incalculable 
possibilities in telepathy or thought transference. If there be, 
as many of these stories seem to suggest, a latent capacity in 
the human mind to communicate with other minds, entirely 
regardless of the conditions of time and space, it is undeniable 
that this would be a fact of the very first magnitude. It is 
quite possible that the telegraph may be to telepathy what the 
stage coach is to the steam engine. Neither can we afford to 
overlook the fact that these phenomena have in these latter 
days signally vindicated their power over the minds of men. 
Some of the acutest minds of our time have learned to recog- 
nise in them scientific demonstration of the existence of the 
fact that personal individuality survives death. 

If it can be proved that it is occasionally possible for per- 
sons at the uttermost ends of the world to communicate 
instantaneously with each other, and even in some cases to 
make a vivid picture of themselves stand before the eyes of 
those to whom they speak, no prejudice as to the unhealthy 
r.nture of the inquiry should be allowed to stand in the way of 
the examination of such a fact with a view to ascertaining 
whether or not this latent capacity of the human mind can be 
utilised for the benefit of mankind. Wild as this suggestion 
may seem to-day, it is less fantastic than our grandfathers a 
hundred years ago would have deemed a statement that at the 
end of the nineteenth century portraits would be taken by the 


sun, that audible conversation would be carried on instan- 
taneously across a distance of a thousand miles, that a ray of 
light could be made the agent for transmitting the human voice 
across an abyss which no wire had ever spanned, and that by a 
simple mechanical arrangement, which a man can carry in his 
hand, it would be possible to reproduce the words, voice, and 
accent of the dead. The photograph, the telegraph, the tele- 
phone, and the phonograph were all more or less latent in 
what seemed to our ancestors the kite-flying folly of Benjamin 
Franklin. Who knows but that in Telepathy we may have the 
faint foreshadowing of another latent force, which may yet be 
destined to cast into the shade even the marvels of electrical 
science ! 

At the end of this century, as at the end of last, there seems 
to be a growing interest in all the occult phenomena to which 
this work is devoted. It is in evidence on every hand. 
The topic is in the air, and will be discussed and is being dis- 
cussed, whether we take notice of it or not. That it has its 
dangers those who have studied it most closely are most aware, 
but these dangers will exist in any case, and if those who 
ought to guide are silent, these perils will be encountered with- 
out the safeguards which experience would dictate and prudence 
suggest. It seems to me that it would be difficult to do better 
service in this direction than to strengthen the hands of those 
who have for many years past been trying to rationalise the 
consideration of the Science of Ghosts. 

It is idle to say that this should be left for experts. We live 
in a democratic age and we democratise everything. It is too 
late in the day to propose to place the whole of this depart- 
ment under the care of any Brahmin caste ; the subject is one 
which every common man and woman can understand. It is 
one which comes home to every human being, for it adds a new 
interest to life, and vivifies the sombre but all-pervading 
problem of death. 

Nevertheless, as thfi net result of my very cursory survey and 
amateur experimenting, it will be seen that I have come to a very 
decided opinion that for the majority — the immense majority of 
men and women — the subject had better be left alone so far as 
the direct intentional production of phenomena is concerned. 
This applies to all spiritualist se'ances, hypnotist experiments, 
and dabbling in magic. Those who meddle in such matters 
from idle curiosity run serious risks. To put it mildly, they 
may become the subjects of hallucinations indistinguishable 
from the delusions of the insane, or they may lose all control 


over their actions and become, as in cases of post-hypnotic 
suggestion, the absolute slaves of another and evil will. At 
the same time, while deprecating the deliberate inducing of these 
phenomena on the part of Tom, Dick, and Harry, there can 
be no objection to the scientific study of any and every sub- 
ject that can engage the human mind. It is no argument 
against the laboratory of the chemist that children occa- 
sionally hurt themselves in making hydrogen out of zinc nails 
and sulphuric acid, nor do we suppress the manufacture of 
explosives because every year amateur pyrotechnists burn their 
fingers. If in these occult studies the scientific investigator 
can hope to discover the secret of telepathic communication, 
the art of transporting ourselves invisibly and instantly to the 
end of the earth, or of seeing clairvoyantly everything that has 
been done since the world began, it would be a crime against 
the progress of the race to place any bar upon such inquiries 
and experiments. But they are distinctly for the few who have 
leisure, culture, and the intellectual faculties indispensable for 
the profitable conduct of such investigations. 

What then becomes of our favourite formula, the democra- 
tisation of knowledge ? It remains where it was. The demo- 
cratisation of railways does not mean that every man, woman, 
and child is to be allowed to drive the engine. It does mean 
that they have all to have free access to the train if they take 
their tickets. So the democratisation of the Science of Ghosts 
does not mean that every one is to set up a seance in his own 
house, or practise black magic in his own back parlour. What 
it means is that, instead of the subject being scouted and 
tabooed and ridiculed, and all information hidden from the 
common people, it shall be openly discussed, freely handled, 
and the results of investigation made known to every one. 
There is nothing in the world as healthy as light. It is 
because the light has not been let in upon this realm that the 
atmosphere is so mephitic. " Light, more light ! " must be in 
this, as in all other realms of nature, the constant cry of the 
searcher for truth. 

But it is not merely in the communication of ascertained 
knowledge to the masses of the people that the democratiser 
of the Science of Ghosts seeks to carry on his work. He 
appeals to the ordinary man not to set about the invocation of 
spirits, but merely to pay observant attention to ghosts and all 
ghostly subjects. The phenomena which are not induced, 
but spontaneous, are of constant but irregular occurrence. At 
present people are more or less ashamed to admit they have 


seen them. They seldom or never record their experiences at 
the time, and hence legal evidence is lacking, which causes the 
enemy to blaspheme. What is wanted on the part of the 
masses is a recognition of the fact that certain phenomena 
occur which, if diligently noted and carefully studied, may 
help us to fresh mastery over nature, and to as yet unconceived 
triumphs over time and space. 


Before reading the contents of this book,— 


i. — That the narratives printed in these pages had better not 
be read by any o?ie of tender years, of morbid excita- 
bility, or of excessively nervous temperament. 

2. — That the latest students of the subject concur in the solemn 
warning addressed in the Sacred Writings to those who 
have dealings with familiar spirits, or who expose 
themselves to the horrible consequences of possession. 

3. — That as the latent possibilities of our complex personality 
are so imperfectly tinder stood, all experimenting in hyp- 
notism, spiritualism, etc., excepting in the most careful 
and reverent spirit, by the most level-headed persons, 
had much better be avoided. 

This Caution is printed here at the suggestion of Catholics, 
Theosophists, and Spiritualists, who declare themselves to 
be profoundly convinced of its necessity. 




The Ghost that dwells in each of Us . . . . i 

The Thought Body, or the Double ..... 24 


Clairvoyance— The Vision of the Out of Sight. , , 52 

Premonitions and Second Sight •..,.. 67 

Ghosts of the Living on Business ...... 95 

Ghosts keeping Promise •«...... 108 


Apparitions at or before Death . , . , . .118 

Ghosts Announcing Their Own Death. . . , .139 

How Phantoms Come and Go -152 

Ghosts of the Dead with a Practical Object , , ,168 




Out-of-door Ghosts . 184 


Evil Spirits and Phantasms which Touch . . . .210 

Dreams and Dreamers 225 

Some Historical Ghosts 241 



Some Haunted Castles . 252 

Wellington Mill , 261 

Brook House .......... 276 

Haunted Parsonages . 292 


Some Haunted Houses in the Country . ... 301 

Haunted Houses Abroad . . . . . . . .316 

A Parting Word ......... 328 


REAL GHOST STORIES !— How can there be real 
ghost stories when there are no real ghosts ? " 

But are there no real ghosts ? You may not have seen one, 
but it does not follow that therefore they do not exist. How 
many of us have seen the microbe that kills ? There are at 
least as many persons who testify they have seen apparitions 
as there are men of science who have examined the microbe. 
You and I, who have seen neither, must perforce take the 
testimony of others. The evidence for the microbe may be 
conclusive, the evidence as to apparitions may be worthless ; 
but in both cases it is a case of testimony, not of personal 

The first thing to be done, therefore, is to collect testimony, 
and by way of generally widening the mind and shaking down 
the walls of prejudice which lead so many to refuse to admit 
the clearest possible evidence as to facts which have not 
occurred within their personal experience, I preface the report 
of my " Census of Hallucinations " or personal experiences of 
the so-called supernatural by a preliminary chapter on the 
perplexing subject of "Personality." This is the question 
that lies at the root of all the controversy as to ghosts. 
Before disputing about whether or not there are ghosts outside 
of us, let us face the preliminary question, whether we have 
not each of us a veritable ghost within our own skin ? 


Thrilling as are some of the stories of the apparitions of the 
living and the dead, they are less sensational than the sugges- 
tion recently made by hypnotists and psychical researchers of 
England and France, that each of us has a ghost inside him. 
They say that we are all haunted by a Spiritual Presence, of 
whose existence we are only fitfully and sometimes never 

i B 


conscious, but which nevertheless inhabits the innermost 
recesses of our personality. The theory of these researchers 
is that besides the body and the mind, meaning by the mind 
the Conscious Personality, there is also within our material 
frame the soul or Unconscious Personality, the nature of which 
is shrouded in unfathomable mystery. The latest word of 
advanced science has thus landed us back to the apostolic 
assertion that man is composed of body, soul, and spirit ; and 
there are some who see in the scientific doctrine of the Uncon- 
scious Personality a welcome confirmation from an unexpected 
quarter of the existence of the soul. 

The fairy tales of science are innumerable, and, like the 
fairy tales of old romance, they are not lacking in the grim, 
the tragic, and even the horrible. Of recent years nothing 
has so fascinated the imagination even of the least imaginative 
of men as the theory of disease which transforms every drop 
of blood in our bodies into the lists in which phagocyte and 
microbe wage the mortal strife on which our health depends. 
Every white corpuscle that swims in our veins is now declared 
to be the armed Knight of Life for ever on the look-out for 
the microbe Fiend of Death. Day and night, sleeping and 
waking, the white knights of life are constantly on the alert, 
for on their vigilance hangs our existence. Sometimes, how- 
ever, the invading microbes come in, not in companies but in 
platoons, innumerable as Xerxes' Persians, and then " e'en 
Roderick's best are backward borne," and we die. For our 
life is the prize of the combat in these novel lists which science 
has revealed to our view through the microscope, and health 
is but the token of the triumphant victory of the phagocyte 
over the microbe. 

But far more enthralling is the suggestion which psychical 
science has made as to the existence of a combat not less 
grave in the very inmost centre of our own mental or spiritual 
existence. The strife between the infinitely minute bacilli 
that swarm in our blood has only the interest which attaches 
to the conflict of inarticulate and apparently unconscious 
animalculce. But the strife to which recent researches into 
the nature and constitution of our mental processes call 
attention concerns our conscious selves. It suggests almost 
inconceivable possibilities as to our own nature, and leaves us 
appalled on the brink of a new world of being of which until 
recently most of us were unaware. 

There are no papers of such absorbing interest in the whole 
of the " Proceedings of the Society for Psychical Research " as 


those which deal with the question of the Personality of Man. 
" I," what am I ? What is our Ego ? Is this Conscious 
Personality which receives impressions through the five senses, 
and through them alone, is it the only dweller in this mortal 
tabernacle? May there not be other personalities, or at least 
one other that is not conscious, when we are awake, and alert, 
and about, but which comes into semi-consciousness when we 
sleep, and can be developed into complete consciousness when 
the other personality is thrown into a state of hypnotic trance ? 
In other words, am I one personality or two ? Is my nature 
dual ? As I have two hemispheres in my brain, have I two 
minds or two souls ? 

The question will, no doubt, appear fantastic in its absurdity 
to those who hear it asked for the first time ; but those who 
are at all familiar with the mysterious but undisputed pheno- 
mena of hypnotism will realize how naturally this question 
arises, and how difficult it is to answer it otherwise than in the 
affirmative. Every one knows Mr. Louis Stevenson's wonder- 
ful story of " Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde." The dual nature of 
man, the warfare between this body of sin and death, and the 
spiritual aspirations of the soul, forms part of the common 
stock of our orthodox belief. But the facts which recent 
researches have brought to light seem to point not to the old 
theological doctrine of the conflict between good and evil in 
one soul, but to the existence in each of us of at least two 
distinct selfs, two personalities, standing to each other some- 
what in the relation of man and wife, according to the old 
ideal when the man is everything and the woman is almost 
entirely suppressed. 

Every one is familiar with the phenomenon of occasional 
loss of memory. Men are constantly losing consciousness, 
from disease, violence, or violent emotion, and emerging again 
into active life with a gap in their memory. Nay, every night 
we become unconscious in sleep, and rarely, if ever, remember 
anything that we think of during slumber. Sometimes in rare 
cases there is a distinct memory of all that passes in the sleep- 
ing and the waking states, and we have read of one young 
man whose sleeping consciousness was so continuous that he 
led, to all intents and purposes, two lives. When he slept he 
resumed his dream existence at the point when he waked, just 
as we resume our consciousness at the point when we fall 
asleep. It was just as real to him as the life which he lived 
when awake. It was actual, progressive, continuous, but 
entirely different, holding no relation whatever to his waking 


life. Of his two existences he preferred that which was spent 
in sleep, as more vivid, more varied, and more pleasurable. 
This was no doubt an extreme and very unusual case. But it 
is not impossible to conceive the possibility of a continuous 
scries of connected dreams, which would result in giving us a 
realizing sense of leading two existences. That we fail to 
realize this now is due to the fact that our memory is practically 
inert or non-existent during sleep. The part of our mind 
which dreams seldom registers its impressions in regions to 
which on waking our conscious personality has access. 

The conception of a dual or even a multiple personality is 
worked out in a scries of papers by Mr. F. \V. H. Myers, to 
which I refer all those who wish to make a serious study of 
this novel and startling hypothesis. But I may at least attempt 
to explain the theory, and to give some outline of the evidence 
on which it is based. 

If I were free to use the simplest illustration without any 
pretence at scientific exactitude, I should say that the new 
theory supposes that there are inside each of us not one 
personality but two, and that these two correspond to the 
husband and wife. There is the Conscious Personality, which 
stands for the husband. It is vigorous, alert, active, positive, 
monopolising all the means of communication and production. 
So intense is its consciousness that it ignores the very existence 
of its partner, excepting as a mere appendage and convenience 
to itself. Then there is the Unconscious Personality, which 
corresponds to the wife who keeps cupboard and storehouse, 
and the old stocking which treasures up the accumulated 
wealth of impressions acquired by the Conscious Personality, 
but who is never able to assert any right to anything, or to the 
use of sense or limb except when her lord and master is asleep 
or entranced. When the Conscious Personality has acquired 
any habit or faculty so completely that it becomes instinctive, 
it is handed on to the Unconscious Personality to keep and 
use, the Conscious Ego giving it no longer any attention. 
Deprived, like the wife in countries where the subjection of 
woman is the universal law, of all right to an independent 
existence, or to the use of the senses, or of the limbs, the 
Unconscious Personality has discovered ways and means of 
communicating other than through the recognised organs of 
sense. How vast and powerful are those hidden organs of the 
Unconscious Personality we can only dimly see. It is through 
them that Divine revelation is vouchsafed to man. The 
visions of the mystic, the prophecies of the seer> the inspira- 


tion of the sibyl, all come through this Unconscious Soul. It 
is through this dumb and suppressed Ego that we com- 
municate by telepathy, — that thought is transferred without 
using the five senses. This under-soul is in touch with the 
over-soul, which, in Emerson's noble phrase, "abolishes time 
and space." " This influence of the senses has," he says, " in 
most men, overpowered their mind to that degree that the 
walls of time and space have come to look real and insur- 
mountable ; and to speak with levity of these limits is in the 
world the sign of insanity. Yet time and space are but inverse 
measures of the force of the soul." It is this Unconscious 
Personality which sees the Strathmore foundering in mid- 
ocean, which hears a whisper spoken hundreds of miles off 
upon the battlefield, and which witnesses, as if it happened 
before the eyes, a tragedy occurring at the Antipodes. In 
proportion as the active, domineering Conscious Personality 
extinguishes his submissive unconscious partner, materialism 
flourishes, and man becomes blind to the Divinity that under- 
lies all things. Hence in all religions the first step is to silence 
the noisy, bustling master of our earthly tabernacle, who, hav- 
ing monopolised the five senses, will listen to no voice which 
it cannot hear, and to allow the silent mistress to be open- 
souled to God. Hence the stress which all spiritual religions 
have laid upon contemplation, upon prayer and fasting. 
Whether it is an Indian Yogi, or a Trappist Monk, or one of 
our own Quakers, it is all the same. In the words of the 
Revivalist hymn, " We must lay our deadly doing down," and 
in receptive silence wait for the inspiration from on high. 
The Conscious Personality has usurped the visible world ; but 
the Invisible, with its immeasurable expanse, is the domain of 
the Sub-conscious. Hence we read in the Scriptures of losing 
life that we may find it; for things of time and sense are 
temporal, but the things which are not seen are eternal. 

It is extraordinary how close is the analogy when we come 
to work it out. The impressions stored up by the Conscious 
Personality and entrusted to the care of the Unconscious are 
often, much to our disgust, not forthcoming when wanted. It 
is as if we had given a memorandum to our wife and we could 
not discover where she had put it. But night comes; our 
Conscious Self sleeps, our Unconscious Housewife wakes, and 
turning over her stores produces the missing impression ; and 
when our other self wakes it finds the mislaid memorandum, 
so to speak, ready to its hand. Sometimes, as in the case of 
somnambulism, the Sub-conscious Personality stealthily en- 


deavours to use the body and limbs, from all direct control 
over which it is shut out as absolutely as the inmate of a 
Hindu zenana is forbidden to mount the charger of her 
warrior spouse. But it is only when the Conscious Personality 
is thrown into a state of hypnotic trance that the Unconscious 
Personality is emancipated from the marital despotism of her 
partner. Then for the first time she is allowed to help her- 
self to the faculties and senses usually monopolised by the 
Conscious Self. But like the timid and submissive inmate of 
the zenana suddenly delivered from the thraldom of her life- 
long partner, she immediately falls under the control of another. 
The Conscious Personality of another person exercises over 
her the same supreme authority that her own Conscious 
Personality did formerly; just as some assert of women that if 
they were to receive the franchise they would become the mere 
tools of the priests. There is nothing of sex in the ordinary 
material sense about the two personalities. But their union is 
so close as to suggest that the intrusion of the hypnotist is 
equivalent to an intrigue with a married woman. The Sub- 
conscious Personality is no longer faithful exclusively to its 
natural partner ; it is under the control of the Conscious 
Personality of another; and in the latter case the dictator 
seems to be irresistibly over-riding for a time all the efforts of 
the Conscious Personality to recover its authority in its own 

What proof, it will be asked impatiently, is there for the 
splitting of our personality? The question is a just one, and 
I proceed to answer it. 

There are often to be found in the records of lunatic asylums 
strange instances of a dual personality, in which there appear 
to be two minds in one body, as there are sometimes two yolks 
in one egg. 

The French psychologists who write in the Remte des Deux 
Mo?ides, furnish us from time to time with very extraordinary 
illustrations of the dual consciousness. Only last month M. 
Jules Janet records the following experiment which, although 
simplicity itself, gives us a very vivid glimpse of a most appal- 
ling complex problem : — 

"An hysterical subject with an insensitive limb is put to sleep, 
and is told, 'After you wake you will raise your finger when 
you mean Yes, and you will put it down when you mean No, 
in answer to the questions which I shall ask you.' The 
subject is then wakened, and M. Janet pricks the insensitive 
linib in several places, JTe asks, 'Do you feel an) thing?' 


The conscious awakened person replies with the lips, ' No,' 
but at the same time, in accordance w^ith the signal that has 
been agreed upon during the state of hypnotisation, the finger 
is raised to signify 'Yes.' It has been found that the finger 
will even indicate exactly the number of times that the appa- 
rently insensitive limb has been wounded." 
The Double- Dr. Robinson, of Lewisham, who has bestowed 
souied much attention on this subject, sends me the fol- 
man. [ ow j n g delightful story about an Irishman who 
seems to have incarnated the Irish nationality in his own un- 
happy person: — 

" An old colleague of mine at the Darlington Hospital told 
me that he once had an Irish lunatic under his care who 
imagined that his body was the dwelling place of two indi- 
viduals, one of whom was a Catholic, with Nationalist — not to 
say Fenian — proclivities, and the other was a Protestant and 
an Orangeman. The host of these incompatibles said he 
made it a fixed rule that the Protestant should occupy the 
right side of his body and the Catholic the left, 'so that he 
would not be annoyed wid them quarrelling in his inside." 
The sympathies of the host were with the green and against 
the orange, and he tried to weaken the latter by starving him, 
and for months would only chew his food on the left side of 
his mouth. The lunatic was not very troublesome, as a rule, 
but the attendants generally had to straight-waistcoat him on 
certain critical days — such as St. Patrick's Day and tire anni- 
versary of the battle of the Boyne ; because the Orange fist 
would punch the Fenian head unmercifully, and occasionally 
he and the Fenian leagued together against the Orangeman 
and banged him against the wall. This lunatic, when ques- 
tioned, said he did his best to keep the peace between his 
troublesome guests, but that sometimes they got out of hand." 
Ansel Bourne ^ similar case, although not so violent or 
and a. j. chronic in its manifestation, is recorded in Vol. 
Brown. VJJ ^ Pan ^ q{ the Psychical Research Society's 

Proceedings, as having occurred on Rhode Island about four 
years ago. An excellent citizen, and a very religious lay 
preacher, of the name of Ansel Bourne, was the subject : — 

" On January 1 7th, 18S7, he went from his home in Coventry, 
R.I., to Providence, in order to get money to pay for a farm 
which he had arranged to buy, leaving his horse at Greene 
Station, in a stable, expecting to return the same afternoon 
from the city. He drew out of bank 551 dollars, and paid 
several small bills, after which he went to his nephew's store, 


121, Broad Street, and then started to go to his sister's house 
on Westminster Street. This was the last that was known of 
his doings at that time. He did not appear at his sister's 
house, and did not return to Greene." 

Nothing was heard of him until March the 14th, when a 
telegram came from a doctor in Norristown, Philadelphia, 
stating that he had just been discovered there. He was en- 
tirely unconscious of having been absent from home, or of the 
lapse of time between January 17th and March 14th. He 
was brought home by his relatives, who by diligent inquiry 
were able to make out that Mr. Ansel Bourne, five weeks after 
leaving Rhode Island, opened a shop in Norristown, and 
stocked it with toys and confectionery which he purchased 
in Philadelphia. He called himself A. J. Brown, and lived 
and did business, and went to meeting, like any ordinary 
mortal, giving no one any suspicion that he was any other than 
A. J. Brown. " 

" On the morning of Monday, March 141)1, about five o'clock, 
he heard, he says, an explosion like the report of a gun or a 
pistol, and, waking, he noticed that there was a ridge in his 
bed not like the bed he had been accustomed to sleep in. He 
noticed the electric light opposite his windows. He rose and 
pulled away the curtains and looked out on the street. He 
felt very weak, and thought that he had been drugged. His 
next sensation was that of fear, knowing that he was in a place 
where he had no business to be. He feared arrest as a burglar, 
or possibly injury. He says this is the only time in his life he 
ever feared a policeman. 

" The last thing he could remember before waking was seeing 
the Adams express wagons at the corner of Dorrance and 
Broad Streets, in Providence, on his way from the store of his 
nephew in Broad Street to his sister's residence in Westminster 
Street, on January 17th." 

The memory of Ansel Bourne retained absolutely nothing 
of the doings of A. J. Brown, whose life he had lived for 
nearly two months. Last year Professor William James 
hypnotised him, and no sooner was he put into the trance and 
was told to remember what happened January 17th, 1887, 
than he became A. J. Brown again, and gave a clear and con- 
nected narrative of all his doings in the Brown state. He did 
not remember ever having met Ansel Bourne. Everything, 
however, in his past life, he said, was "mixed up." He only 
remembered that he was confused, wanted to get somewhere 
and have rest. ITe did not remember how he left Norristo\yu 


His mind was confused, and since then it was a blank. He 
had no memory whatever of his name or of his second mar- 
riage and the place of his birth. He remembered, however, 
the date of his birth, and of his first wife's death, and his 
trade. But between January 17th, 1887, and March 14th he 
was not himself but another, and that other one Albert J. 
Brown, who ceased to exist consciously on March 14th, but 
who promptly returned four years afterwards, when Ansel 
Bourne was hypnotised, and showed that he remembered 
perfectly all that happened to him between these two dates. 
The confusion of his two memories in his earlier life is 
puzzling, but it in no way impairs the value of this illustration 
of the existence of two independent memories — two selfs, so 
to speak, within a single skin. 

The phenomenon is not uncommon, especially with epileptic 
patients. Every mad-doctor knows cases in which there are 
what may be described as alternating consciousnesses with 
alternating memories. But the experiments of the French 
hypnotists carry us much further. In their hands this Sub- 
conscious Personality is capable of development, of tuition, 
and of emancipation. In this little suspected region lies a 
great resource. For when the Conscious Personality is hope- 
less, diseased, or demoralised the Unconscious Personality can 
be employed to renovate and restore the patient, and then 
when its work is done it can become unconscious once more 
and practically cease to exist. 

Louis v There is at present a patient in France whose 

and his' case is so extraordinary that I cannot do better 
two Souls. than transcr it, e trie report of it here, especially be- 
cause it tends to show not only that we have two personalities, 
but that each may use by preference a separate lobe of the 
brain. The Conscious Personality occupies the left and con- 
trols the right hand, the Unconscious the right side of the 
head and controls the left hand. It also brings to light a very 
curious, not to say appalling, fact, viz. the immense moral 
difference there may be between the Conscious and the Un- 
conscious Personalities. In the American case Bourne was a 
character practically identical with Brown. In this French 
case the character of each self is entirely different. What 
makes the case still more interesting is that, besides the two 
personalities which we all seem to possess, this patient had an 
arrested personality, which was only fourteen years old when 
the age of his body was over forty. Here is the story, ho\y- 
ever, make of it what you will, 


"Louis V. began life (in 1863) as the neglected child of a 
turbulent mother. He was sent to a reformatory at ten years 
of age, and there showed himself, as he has always done when 
his organization had given him a chance, quiet, well-behaved, 
and obedient. Then at fourteen years old he had a great 
fright from a viper — a fright which threw him off his balance, 
and started the series of psychical oscillations on which he has 
been tossed ever since. At first the symptoms were only 
physical, epilepsy and hysterical paralysis of the legs j and at 
the asylum of Bonneval, whither he was next sent, he worked 
at tailoring steadily for a couple of months. Then suddenly 
he had a hystero-epileptic attack — fifty hours of convulsions 
and ecstasy— and when he awoke from it he was no longer 
paralysed, no longer acquainted with tailoring, and no longer 
virtuous. His memory was set back, so to say, to the moment 
of the viper's appearance, and he could remember nothing 
since. His character had become violent, greedy, quarrel- 
some, and his tastes were radically changed. For instance, 
though he had before the attack been a total abstainer, he 
now not only drank his own wine, but stole the wine of the 
other patients. He escaped from Bonneval, and after a few 
turbulent years, tracked by his occasional relapses into hospital 
or madhouse, he turned up once more at the Rochefort asylum 
in the character of a private of marines, convicted of theft, 
but considered to be of unsound mind. And at Rochefort 
and La Rochelle, by great good fortune, he fell into the hands 
of three physicians — Professors Bourru and Burot, and Dr. 
Mabille — able and willing to continue and extend the observa- 
tions which Dr. Camuset at Bonneval, and Dr. Jules Voisin at 
Bicetre, had already made on this most precious of mauvais 
sujets at earlier points in his chequered career. 

"He is now no longer at Rochefort, and Dr. Burot informs 
me that his health has much improved, and that his peculiar- 
ities have in great part disappeared. I must, however, for 
clearness sake, use the present tense in briefly describing his 
condition at the time when the long series of experiments 
were made. 

"The state into which he has gravitated is a very unpleasing 
one. There is paralysis and insensibility of the right side, 
and, as is often the case in right hemiplegia, the speech is 
indistinct and difficult. Nevertheless he is constantly haran- 
guing any one who will listen to him, abusing his physicians, 
or preaching — with a monkey-like impudence rather than with 
reasoned clearness— radicalism in politics apd atheism in re- 


ligion. He makes bad jukes, and if any one pleases him he 
endeavours to caress him. He remembers recent events dur- 
ing his residence at Rochefort asylum, but only two scraps of 
his life before that date, namely, his vicious period at Bcnneval 
and a part of his stay at Biceire. 

" Except this strange fragmentary memory, there is nothing 
very unusual in this condition, and in many asylums no experi- 
ments on it would have been attempted. Fortunately the 
physicians at Rochefort were familiar wiih the efficacy of 
the contact of metals in provoking transfer of hysterical 
hemiplegia from one side to the other. They tried various 
metals in turn on Louis V. Lead, silver, and zinc had no 
effect. Copper produced a slight return of sensibility in 
the paralysed arm, but steel applied to the right arm trans- 
ferred the whole insensibility to the left side of the body. 

" Inexplicable as such a phenomenon is, it is sufficiently 
common, as French physicians hold, in hysterical cases to 
excite little surprise. What puzzled the doctors was the 
change of character which accompanied the change of sensi- 
bility. When Louis V. issued from the crisis of transfer, 
with its minute of anxious expression and panting breath, he 
might fairly be called a new man. The restless insolence, the 
savage impulsiveness, have wholly disappeared. The patient 
is now gentle, respectful, and modest, can speak clearly now, 
but he only speaks when he is spoken to. If he is asked his 
views on religion and politics, he prefers to leave such matters 
to wiser heads than his own. It might seem that morally and 
mentally the patient's cure had been complete. 

" But now ask what he thinks of Rochefort ; how he liked his 
regiment of marines. He will blankly answer that he knows 
nothing of Rochefort, and was never a soldier in his life. 
1 Where are you then, and what is the date of to-day ? ' 'I 
am at Bicetre ; it is January 2nd, 1884, and I hope to see M. 
Voisin, as I did yesterday.' 

11 It is found, in fact, that he has now the memory of two 
short periods of life (different from those which he remembers 
when his right side is paralysed), periods during which, so far as 
now can be ascertained, his character was of this same decor- 
ous type, and his paralysis was on his left side. 

" These two conditions are what are called his first and his 
second, out of a series of six or more through which he can be 
made to pass. For brevity's sake I will further describe his 
fifth state only. 

M If he is placed in an electric bath, or if a magnet is placed 


on his head, it looks at first sight as though a complete physical 
cure had been effected. All paralysis, all defect of sensibility, 
has disappeared. His "movements are light and active, his 
expression gentle and timid, but ask him where he is, and you 
will find that he has gone back to a boy of fourteen, that he is 
at St. Urbain, his first reformatory, and that his memory em- 
braces his years of childhood, and stops short on the very day 
on which he had the fright from the viper. If he is pressed 
to recollect the incident of the viper, a violent epileptiform 
crisis puts a sudden end to this phase of his personality." 
(Vol. IV. pp. 497, 498, 499, " Proceedings of the Society for 
Psychical Research.") 

This carries us a good deal further. Here we have not only 
two distinct personalities, but two distinct characters, if not 
three, in one body. According to the side which is paralysed, 
the man is a savage reprobate or a decent modest citizen. 
The man seems born again when the steel touches his right 
side. Yet all that has happened has been that the Sub- 
conscious Personality has superseded his Conscious Personality 
in the control of Louis V. 

Lucie and The next case, although not marked by the same 

Adnenne violent contrast, is quite as remarkable, because it 
illustrates the extent to which the Sub-conscious Self can be 
utilised in curing the Conscious Personality. 

" The subject was a girl of nineteen, called Lucie, who was 
highly hysterical, having daily attacks of several hours' 
duration. She was also devoid of the sense of pain or the sense 
of contact, so that she ' lost her legs in bed,' as she put it. 

"On her fifth hypnotisation, however, Lucie underwent a 
kind of catalepsy, after which she returned to the somnambulic 
state ; but that state was deeper than before. She no longer 
made any sign whether of assent or refusal when she received 
the hypnotic commands, but she executed them infallibly, 
whether they were to take effect immediately, or after waking. 

" In Lucie's case this went further, and the suggested actions 
became absolutely a portion of the trance-life. She executed 
them without apparently knowing what she was doing. If, for 
instance, in her waking state she was told (in the tone which 
in her hypnotic state signified command) to get up and walk 
about, she walked about, but to judge from her conversation 
she supposed herself to be still sitting quiet. She would weep 
violently when commanded, but while she wept she continued 
to talk as gaily and unconcernedly as if the tears had been 
turned on by a stop-cock, 


" Any suggestion uttered by M. Janet in a brusque tone of 
command reached the Unconscious Self alone; and other re- 
marks reached the subject— awake or somnambulic — in the 
ordinary way. The next step was to test the intelligence of 
this hidden ' slave of the lamp,' if I may so term it — this sub- 
conscious and indifferent executor of all that was bidden. 
How far was its attention alert ? How far was it capable of 
reasoning and judgment ? M. Janet began with a simple experi- 
ment. ' When I shall have clapped my hands together twelve 
times,' he said to the entranced subject before awakening her, 
'you will go to sleep again.' There was no sign that the 
sleeper understood or heard ; and when she v. T as awakened the 
events of the trance was a blank to her as usual. She began 
talking to other persons. M. Janet, at some little distance, 
clapped his hands feebly together five times. Seeing that she 
did not seem to be attending to him, he went up to her and 
said, 'Did you hear what I did just now?' 'No; what?' 
' Do you hear this ? ' and he clapped his hands once more. 
'Yes, you clapped your hands.' 'How often?" 'Once.' 
M. Janet again withdrew and clapped his hands six times 
gently, with pauses between the claps. Lucie paid no ap- 
parent attention, but when the sixth clap of this second series 
■ — making the twelfth altogether — was reached, she fell in- 
stantly into the trance again. It seemed, then, that the " slave 
of the lamp" had counted the claps through all, and had 
obeyed the order much as a clock strikes after a certain number 
of swings of the pendulum, however often you stop it between 
hour and hour. 

" Thus far, the knowledge gained as to the unconscious ele- 
ment in Lucie w r as not direct, but inferential. The nature of 
the command which it could execute showed it to be capable of 
attention and memory ; but there was no way of learning its 
own conception of itself, if such existed, or of determining its 
relation to other phenomena of Lucie's trance. And here it 
was that automatic writing was successfully invoked ; here we 
have, as I may say, the first fruits in France of the new atten- 
tion directed to this seldom-trodden field. M. Janet began 
by the following simple command : ' When I clap my hands 
you will write Bonjour.' This was done in the usual scrawling 
script of automatism, and Lucie, though fully awake, was not 
aware that she had written anything at all. 

" M. Janet simply ordered the entranced girl to write answers 
to all questions of his after her w r aking. The command thus 
given had a persistent effect, and while the awakened Lucie 


continued lo chatter as usual with other persons, her Uncon- 
scious Self wrote brief and scrawling responses to M. Janet's 
questions. This was the moment at which, in many cases, 
a new and invading separate personality is assumed. 

" A singular conversation gave to this limited creation, this 
statutory intelligence, an identity sufficient for practical con- 
venience. ' Do you hear me ? ' asked Professor Janet. 
Answer (by writing), 'No.' 'But in order to answer one 
must hear.' 'Certainly.' 'Then how do you manage?' 
1 I don't know.' ' There must be somebody that hears me.' 
'Yes.' 'Who is it?' 'Not Lucie.' 'Oh, some one else? 
Shall we call her Blanche ? ' ' Yes, Blanche.' Blanche, how- 
ever, had to be changed. Another name had to be chosen. 
' What name will you have ? ' ' No name.' ' You must, it 
will be more convenient.' ' Well, then, Adrienne.' Never, 
perhaps, has a personality had less spontaneity about it. 

" Yet Adrienne was in some respects deeper down than Lucie. 
She could get at the genesis of certain psychical manifestations 
of which Lucie experienced only the results. A striking in- 
stance of this was afforded by the phenomena of the hystero- 
epileptic attacks to which this patient was subject. 

" Lucie's special terror, which recurred in wild exclamation in 
her hysterical fits, was in some way connected with hidden men. 
She could not, however, recollect the incident to which her 
cries referred ; she only knew that she had had a severe fright 
at seven years old, and an illness in consequence. Now, 
during these " crises " Lucie (except, presumably, in the 
periods of unconsciousness which form a pretty constant 
element in such attacks) could hear what Prof. Janet said 
to her. Adrienne, on the contrary, was hard to get at ; could 
no longer obey orders, and if she wrote, wrote only ' J'ai peur, 
j'ai peur." 

" M. Janet, however, waited until the attack was over, and 
then questioned Adrienne as to the true meaning of the 
agitated scene. Adrienne was able to describe to him the 
terrifying incident in her childish life which had originated 
the confused hallucinations which recurred during the attack. 
She could not explain the recrudescence of the hallucinations ; 
but she knew what Lucie saw, and why she saw it; nay, indeed, 
it was Adrienne, rather than Lucie, to whom the hallucination 
was directly visible. 

'• Lucie, it will be remembered, was a hysterical patient very 
seriously amiss. One conspicuous symptom was an almost 
absolute defect of sensibility, whether to pain, to heat, or to- 


contact, which persisted both when she was awake and en- 
tranced. There was, as already mentioned, an entire defect 
of the muscular sense also, so that when her eyes were shut 
she did not know the position of her limbs. Nevertheless it 
was remarked as an anomaly that when she was thrown into 
a cataleptic state, not only did the movements impressed upon 
her continue to be made, but the corresponding or complimen- 
tary movements, the corresponding facial expression, followed 
just as they usually follow in such experiments. Thus, if M. 
Janet clenched her fist in the cataleptic state, her arm began 
to deal blows, and her face assumed a look of anger. The 
suggestion which was given through the so-called muscular 
sense had operated in a subject to whom the muscular sense, 
as tested in other ways, seemed to be wholly lacking. As soon 
as Adrienne could be communicated with, it was possible to 
get somewhat nearer to a solution of this puzzle. Lucie was 
thrown into catalepsy j then M. Janet clenched her left hand 
(she began at once to strike out), put a pencil in her right, and 
said, ' Adrienne, what are you doing ? ' The left hand con- 
tinued to strike, and the face to bear the look of rage, while 
the right hand wrote, ' I am furious.' ' With whom ? ' 
' With F.' ' Why ? ' 'I don't know, but I am very angry. 
M. Janet then unclenched the subject's left hand, and put it 
gently to her lips. It began to ■ blow kisses,' and the face 
smiled. ' Adrienne, are you still angry ? ' ' No, that's over.' 
' And now ? ' ' Oh, I am happy ! ' ' And Lucie ? ' ' She 
knows nothing ; she is asleep." 

" In Lucie's case, indeed, these odd manifestations were — as 
the pure experimentalist might say — only too sanative, only 
too rapidly tending to normality. M. Janet accompanied his 
psychological inquiries with therapeutic suggestion, telling 
Adrienne not only to go to sleep when he clapped his hands, 
or to answer his questions in writing, but to cease having head- 
aches, to cease having convulsive attacks, to recover normal 
sensibility, and so on. Adrienne obeyed, and even as she 
obeyed the rational command, her own Undine-like identity 
vanished away. The day came when M. Janet called en 
Adrienne, and Lucie laughed and asked him who he w r as 
talking to. Lucie was now a healthy young woman, but 
Adrienne, who had risen out of the unconscious, had sunk 
into the unconscious again — must I say ? — for evermore. 

11 Few lives so brief have taught so many lessons. For us 
who are busied with automatic writing the lesson is clear. 
We have here demonstrably what we can find in other cases 


only inferentially, an intelligence manifesting itself continu- 
ously by written answers, of purport quite outside the normal 
subject's conscious mind, while yet that intelligence was but a 
part, a fraction, an aspect, of the normal subject's own identity. 
"And we must remember that Adriennc — while she was, if I 
may say so, the Unconscious Self reduced to its simplest expres- 
sion — did, nevertheless, manifest certain differences from Lu^ie, 
which, if slightly exaggerated, might have been very perplexing. 
Her handwriting was slightly different, thoilgh only in the loose 
and scrawling character so frequent in automatic script. Again, 
Adrienne remembered certain incidents in Lucie's childhood 
which Lncie had wholly forgotten. Once more — and this 
last suggestion points to positive rather than to negative con- 
clusions — Adrienne possessed a faculty, the muscular sense, 
of which Lucie was devoid. I am anxious that this point 
especially should be firmly grasped, for I wish the reader's 
mind to be perfectly open as regards the relative faculties of 
the Conscious and the Unconscious Self. It is plain that we 
must be on the watch for completion, for evolution, as well as 
for partition, for dissolution, of the corporate being." 

Felida X and ^ e ^7 S ^ C W ' tn tn * S CaSe We nave another in 

her sub- whicn the Conscious Personality, instead of being 
merged Soul. cure( ^ ] ias k cen superseded by the Sub-conscious. 
It was as if instead of " Adrienne" being submerged by Lucie, 
11 Adrienne " became Lucie and dethroned her former master. 
The woman in question, Felida X., has been transformed. 

" In her case the somnambulic life has become the normal 
life ; the ' second state,' which appeared at first only in short, 
dream-like accesses, has gradually replaced the ' first state,' 
which now recurs but for a few hours at long intervals. 
Fe'lida's second state is altogether superior to the first — 
physically superior, since the nervous pains which had troubled 
her from childhood had disappeared; and morally superior, 
inasmuch as her morose, self-centred disposition is exchanged 
for a cheerful activity which enables her to attend to her 
children and to her shop much more effectively than when she 
was in the ciat b'cie^ as she now calls what was once the only 
personality that she knew. In this case, then, which is now 
of nearly thirty years' standing, the spontaneous readjustment 
of nervous activities — the second state, no memory of which 
remains in the first state — has resulted in an improvement 
profounder than could have been anticipated from any moral 
or medical treatment that we know. The case shows us how 
often the word ' normal ' means nothing more than ' what 


happens to exist.' For Felicia's normal state was in fact her 
morbid state ; and the new condition which seemed at first a 
mere" hysterical abnormality, has brought her to a life of bodily 
and mental sanity, which makes her fully the equal of average 
womeiT of herclass." (Vol. IV. p. 503.) 
Madame b. Marvellous. as_ these cases appear, they are 
and her three thrown entirely "into the shade by the case of 
Souls. Madame B., in which the two personalities not 
only exist side by side, but in the case of the Sub-conscious 
self knowingly co-exist, while over or beneath both there is a 
third personality which is aware of both the other two, and 
apparently superior to both. The possibilities which this case 
opens up are bewildering indeed. But it is better to state the 
case first and discuss it afterwards. Madame B., who is still 
under Prof. Richet's observation, is one of the favourite sub- 
jects of the French hypnotiser. She can be put to sleep at 
almost any distance, and when hypnotised completely changes 
her character. There are two well-defined personalities in her, 
and a third of a more mysterious nature than either of the two 
first. The normal waking state of the woman is called Leonie 
I., the hypnotic state Le'onie II. The third 6ecJU Unconscious 
Personality of the lowest depth is called Leonie III. 

"'This poor peasant,' "says Professor Janet, 'is in her 
normal state a serious and somewhat melancholy woman, 
calm and slow, very gentle and extremely timid. No one 
would suspect the existence of the person whom she includes 
within her. Hardly is she entranced when she is metamor- 
phosed; her face is no longer the same ; her eyes, indeed, re- 
main closed, but.-the acu.teness of the other senses compensates 
for "the loss of sight. ; v 1lhe becomes gay, noisy, and restless to 
an insupportable degree ; she continues good-natured, but she 
has acquiredVsingifiar tendency to irony and bitter jests. . . . 
In this state she does not recognise her identity with her 
waking self. " That good woman is not I,*' she says ; " she is 
too stupid ! " ' " 

" Madame B. has been so often hypnotised, and during so 
many years' (for she was hypnotised by other physicians as 
long ago as i860), that Leonie II. has by this time acquired 
ja considerable stock of memories which Madame B. does 
'not share. Leonie II., therefore, counts as properly belong- 
ing to her own history and not to Madame B.'s all the events 
which have taken place jvhile Madame B.'s normal self was 
hypnotised into unconsciousness. It was not always easy at 
first to understand this partition of past experiences. 



" ' Madame B. in the normal state/ says Professor Janet, 
'has a husband and children. Leonie II., speaking in the 
somnambulistic trance, attributes the husband to the "other" 
(Madame B.), but attributes the children to herself. ... At 
last I learnt that her former mesmerisers, as bold in their 
practice as certain hypnotisers of to-day, had induced somnam- 
bulism at the time of her accouchements. Leonie II., there- 
fore, was quite right in attributing the children to herself; the 
rule of partition was unbroken, and the somnambulism was 
characterised by a duplication of the subject's existence'" 
(p. 391). 

Still more extraordinary are Le'onie II.'s attempts to 
make use of Le'onie I.'s limbs without her knowledge or 
against her will. She will write postscripts to Le'onie I.'s 
letters, of the nature of which poor Le'onie I. is unconscious. 

" It seems, however, that when once set up this new per- 
sonality can occasionally assume the initiative, and can say 
what it wants to say without any prompting. This is curiously 
illustrated by what may be termed a conjoint epistle addressed 
to Professor Janet by Madame B. and her secondary self, 
Le'onie II. ' She had left Havre more than two months when 
I received from her a very curious letter. On the first page 
was a short note written in a serious and respectful style. She 
was unwell, she said— worse on some days than on others — 
and she signed her true name, Madame B. But over the page 
began another letter in quite a different style, and which I 
may quote as a curiosity : — " My dear good sir, — I must tell 
you that B. really makes me suffer very much ; she cannot 
sleep, she spits blood, she hurts me. I am going to demolish 
her, she bores me. I am ill also. This is from your devoted 
Leontine " (the name first given to Le'onie II.). When 
Madame B. returned to Havre I naturally questioned her 
concerning this curious missive. She remembered the first 
letter very distinctly, but she had not the slightest recollection 
of the second. I at first thought there must have been an 
attack of spontaneous somnambulism between the moment 
when she finished the first letter and the moment when she 
closed the envelope. But afterwards these unconscious, 
spontaneous letters became common, and I was better able to 
study the mode of their production. I was fortunately able 
to watch Madame B. on one occasion while she went through 
this curious performance. She was seated at a table, and 
held in the left hand the piece of knitting at which she had 
been working. Her face was calm, her eyes looked into 


space with a certain fixity, but she was not cataleptic, for she 
was humming a rustic tune ; her right hand wrote quickly, 
and, as it were, surreptitiously. I removed the paper without 
her noticing me, and then spoke to her; she turned round 
wide-awake but was surprised to see me, for in her state 
of distraction she had not noticed my approach. Of the letter 
which she was writing she knew nothing whatever. 

" Le'onie II.'s independent action is not entirely confined to 
writing letters. She observed (apparently) that when her 
primary self, Leonie I., discovered these letters she (Leonie I.) 
tore them up. So Leonie II. hit upon a plan of placing them 
in a photographic album into which Leonie I. could not look 
without falling into catalepsy (on account of an association 
of ideas with Dr. Giberr, whose portrait had been in the album). 
In order to accomplish an act like this Leonie II. has to wait 
for a moment when Le'onie I. is distracted, or, as we say, 
absent-minded. If she can catch her in this state Leonie II. 
can direct Le'onie I.'s walks, for instance, or start on a long 
railway journey without baggage, in order to get to Havre as 
quickly as possible." 

In the whole realm of imaginative literature, is there 
anything to compare to this actual fact of three selves in one 
body, each struggling to get possession of it? Leonie I., 
or the Conscious Personality, is in possession normally, but is 
constantly being ousted by Leonie II., or the Sub-conscious 
Personality. It is the old, old case of the wife trying to 
wear the breeches. But there is a fresh terror beyond. For 
behind both Leonie I. and Le'onie II. stands the mysterious 
Leonie III. 

" ' The spontaneous acts of the Unconscious Self,' says M. 
Janet, here meaning by Vinconscient the entity to which he 
has given the name of Leonie III., ' may also assume a very 
reasonable form — a form which, were it better understood, 
might perhaps serve to explain certain cases of insanity. 
Mme. B., during her somnambulism (i.e. Leonie II.) had had 
a sort of hysterical crisis ; she was restless and noisy and I 
could not quiet her. Suddenly she stopped and said to me 
with terror. " Oh, who is talking to me like that ? It frightens 
me.' " No one is talking to you." " Yes ! there on the left ! " 
And she got up and tried to open a wardrobe on her left hand, 
to see if some one was hidden there. " What is that you hear ? " 
I asked. " I hear on the left a voice which repeats, ' Enough, 
enough, be quiet, you are a nuisance.' " Assuredly the voice 
which thus spoke was a reasonable one, for Le'onie II. was 


insupportable ; but I had suggested nothing of the kind, and 
had no idea of inspiring a hallucination of hearing. Another 
day Leonie II. was quite calm, but obstinately refused to 
answer a question which I asked. Again she heard with 
terror the same voice to the left, saying, " Come, be sensible, 
you must answer." Thus the Unconscious sometimes gave her 
excellent advice.' 

"And in effect, as soon as Leonie III. was summoned into 
communication, she accepted the responsibility of this coun- 
sel. ' What was it that happened ? ' asked M. Janet, ' when 
Leonie II. was so frightened?' 'Oh! nothing. It was I 
who told her to keep quiet ; I saw she was annoying you ; I 
don't know why she was so frightened.' 

" Note the significance of this incident. Here we have got 
at the root of a hallucination. We have not merely infe- 
rential but direct evidence that the imaginary voice which 
terrified Leonie II. proceeded from a profounder stratum of 
consciousness in the same individual. In what way, by the 
aid of what nervous mechanism, was the startling monition 
conveyed ? 

" Just as Mme. B. was sent, by means of passes, into a state 
of lethargy, from which she emerged as Leonie II., so Leonie 
II., in her turn, was reduced by renewed passes to a state 
of lethargy from which she emerged no longer as Leonie II. 
but as Leonie III. This second waking is slow and gradual, 
but the personality which emerges is, in one important point, 
superior to either Leonie I. or Leonie II. Although one 
among the subject's phases, this phase possesses the memory 
of every phase. Leonie III., like Leonie II., knows the 
normal life of Leonie I., but distinguishes herself from Le'onie 
I., in whom, it must be said, these subjacent personalities 
appear to take little interest. But Le'onie III. also remembers 
the life of Leonie II. — condemns her as noisy and frivolous, 
and is anxious not to be confounded with her either. ' Vous 
voyez bien que je ne suis pas cette bavarde, cette folle ; nous 
ne nous ressemblons pas du tout.' " 

We ask, in amazement, how many more personalities may 
there not be hidden in the human frame? Here is simple 
Madame B., who is not one person but three — first her 
commonplace self; secondly, the clever, chattering Le'onie II., 
who is bored by B., and who therefore wants to demolish her ; 
and thirdly, the lordly Leonie III., who issues commands that 
strike terror into Leonie II., and disdains to be identified 
with either of the partners in Madame B.'s body. 


It is evident, if the hypnotists are right, that the human 
body is more like a tenement house than a single cell, and 
that the inmates love each other no more than the ordinary 
occupants of tenemented property. But how many are there of 
us within each skin who can say ? 

Some 0f theories to account for these strange phe- 

Suggested nomena there are enough and to spare. I do not 
eones. ^ a moment venture t0 c i a i m f or foe man-and- 
wife illustration the slightest scientific value. It is only a figure 
of speech which brings out very clearly one aspect of the prob- 
lem of personality. The theory that there are two independent 
personalities within the human skin is condemned by all 
orthodox psychologists. There is one personality manifesting 
itself, usually consciously, but occasionally unconsciously, and 
the different method of manifestation differs so widely as to 
give the inpression that there could not be the same personality 
behind both. A man who is ambidextrous will sign his name 
differently with his right or left hand, but it is the same 
signature. Mr. Myers thinks that the Secondary Personality 
or Subliminal Consciousness is merely a phase of the essential 
Unity of the Ego. Some time ago he expressed himself on 
this subject as follows : — 

" I hold that hypnotism (itself a word covering a vast variety 
of different states) may be regarded as constituting one special 
case which falls under a far wider category — the category, 
namely, of developments of a Secondary Personality. I hold 
that we each of us contain the potentialities of many different 
arrangements of the elements of our personality, each arrange- 
ment being distinguishable from the rest by differences in the 
chain of memories which pertain to it. The arrangement with 
which we habitually identify ourselves — what we call the 
normal or primary self— consists, in my view, of elements 
selected for us in the struggle for existence with special 
reference to the maintenance of ordinary physical needs, and 
is not necessarily superior in any other respect to the latent 
personalities which lie alongside of it — the fresh combinations 
of our personal elements which may be evoked by accident or 
design, in a variety to which we at present can assign no limit. 
I consider that dreams, with natural somnambulism, automatic 
writing, with so-called mediumistic trance, as well as certain 
intoxications, epilepsies, hysterias, and recurrent insanities, 
afford examples of the development of what I have called 
secondary mnemonic chains ; fresh personalities, more or less 
complete, alongside the normal state. And I would add that 


hypnotism is only the name given to a group of empirical 
methods of inducing these fresh personalities." 

A doctor in philosophy, to whom I submitted these pages, 
writes me as follows : — " There can be no doubt that every 
man lives a sub-conscious as well as a conscious life. One side 
of him is closed against examination by himself (i.e. uncon- 
scious) j the other is conscious of itself. The former carries 
on processes of separation, combination, and distribution, of 
the thought-stuff handed over to it, corresponding almost 
exactly to the processes carried on by the stomach, which, as 
compared with those of eating, etc., go on in the dark auto- 
matically. But you might as well ascribe the aches and 
revolutions of the stomach to a second stomach, as ordinarily 
these sub-conscious, mental processes to an old female inside 
blindfolded except occasionally, or here and there a queer 

Another doctor, not of philosophy but of medicine, who lias 
devoted special attention to the phenomenon of sleep, suggests 
a new illustration which is graphic and suggestive. He 
writes : — 

"With regard to dual or multiple consciousness, my own 
feeling has always been that the individuals stand one behind 
the other in the chambers of the mind, or else, as it were, in 
concentric circles. You may compare it to the Jewish taber- 
nacle. First, there is the court of the Gentiles, where Ego No. 
i chaffers about trifles with the outer world. While he is so 
doing Ego No. 2 watches him from the court of the Levites, 
but does not go forth on small occasions. W T hen we ' open 
out' to a friend the Levite comes forth, and is in turn watched 
by the priest from the inner court. Let our emotions be 
stirred in sincere converse and out strides the priest, and takes 
precedence of the other two, they falling obediently and 
submissively behind him. But the priest is still watched by 
the high priest from the tabernacle itself, and only on great 
and solemn occasions does he make himself manifest by action. 
When he does, the other three yield to his authority, and 
then we say the man 'speaks with his whole soul' and 'from 
the bottom of his heart.' But even now the Shekinah is upon 
the mercy-seat within the Holy of holies, and the high priest 
knows it." 

The latest word of the French psychologists is thus stated 
by M. Fouillee :— 

" Contemporary psychology deprives us of the illusion of a 
definitely limited, impenetrable, and absolutely autonomous I. 


The conception of individual consciousness must be of an idea 
rather than of a substance. Though separate in the universe, 
we are not separate from the universe. 'Continuity and re- 
ciprocity of action exist everywhere. This is the great law 
and the great mystery. There is no such thing as an isolated 
and veritably monad being, any more than there is such a 
thing as an indivisible point, except in the abstractions of 
geometry.' " 

Whatever may be the true theory, it is evident that there is 
enough mystery about personality to make us very difiicult 
about dogmatising, especially as to what is possible and what 
is not. 

Whether we have one mind or two let us, at least, keep it 
(or them) open. 



"And as Peter knocked at the door of the gate, a damsel came to hearken, 
named Rhoda. And when she knew Peter's voice, she ran in and told how 
Peter stood before the gate. And they said unto her, Thou art mad. But 
she constantly affirmed that it was even so. Then said they, It is his angel 
(or double)."— Acts xii. 13-15. 

I BEG AN to write this in the autumn of 1S91 in a small 
country-house among the Surrey hills, whither I had 
retreated in order to find undisturbed leisure in which to 
arrange my ideas and array my facts. It was a pleasant place 
enough, perched on the brow of a heath-covered slope that 
dipped down to a ravine, at the head of which stands Pro- 
fessor Tyndall's house with its famous screen. Hardly a mile 
away northward lies the Devil's Punch Bowl, with its memorial 
stone erected in abhorrence of the detestable murder perpe- 
trated on its rim by ruffians whose corpses slowly rotted as 
they swung on the gibbet overhead ; far to the south spreads 
the glorious amphitheatre of hills which constitute the High- 
lands of the South. The Portsmouth road, along which for 
hundreds of years rolled to and fro the tide of martial life 
between London and the great Sea Gate of the Realm, lies 
near by, silent and almost disused. Mr. Balfour's land, on 
the brow of Hindhead, is enclosed but not yet built upon, 
although a whole archipelago of cottages and villas is springing 
up amid the heather as the ground slopes towards Selborne— 
White's Selborne — that can dimly be descried to the westward 
beyond Liphook Common. Memories there are, enough and 
to spare, of the famous days of old, and of the not less famous 
men of our own time ; but the ghosts have fled. "There used 
to be a ghost in the mill," said my driver, "and another in a 
comparatively new house over in Lord Tennyson's direction, 
but we hear nothing about them now." " Not even at the 
Murder Stone of the Devil's Punch Bowl ? " " Not even at 
the Murder Stone. I have driven past it at all hours, and 
never saw anything — but the stone, of course." 



Yet a more suitable spot for a ghost could hardly be con- 
ceived than the rim of the Devil's Punch Bowl, where the 
sailor was murdered, and where afterwards his murderers were 
hanged. I visited it late at night, when the young moon was 
beginning to struggle through the cloudy sky, and looked down 
into the ravine which Cobbett declared was the most horrid 
place God ever made ; but no sign of ghostly visitant could 
be caught among the bracken, no sound of the dead voices 
was audible in the air. It is the way with ghosts — they 
seldom appear where they might be looked for. It is the 
unexpected in the world of shadows, as in the workaday world, 
which always happens. 

Of this I had soon a very curious illustration. For, although 
there were no ghosts in the Devil's Punch Bowl by the 
Murder Stone, 1 found that there had been a ghost in the 
trim new little villa in which I was quartered! It didn't 
appear to me — at least, it has not done so as yet. But it 
appeared to some friends of mine whose statement is explicit 
enough. Here was a find indeed. I spent most of my boy- 
hood within a mile of the famous haunted house or mill at 
Wellington, but I had never slept before in a place which 
ghosts used as a trysting-place. I asked my hostess about it. 
She replied, " Yes, it is quite true ; but, although you may not 
believe it, I am the ghost." " You ? How ? " " Yes," she 
replied, quite seriously j " it is quite true what your friends 
have told you. They did see what you would correctly 
describe as an apparition. That is to say, they saw a more or 
less shadowy figure, which they at once identified, and which 
then gradually faded away. It was an apparition in the true 
sense of the word. It entered the room without using the 
door or window, it was visibly manifested before them, and 
then it vanished. All that is quite true. But it is also true 
that the ghost, as you call it, was my ghost." "Your ghost, 

but " "I am not dead, you are going to say. Precisely. 

But surely you must be well aware of the fact that the ghosts 
of the living are much better authenticated than ghosts of the 

My hostess was the daughter of a well-known London 
solicitor, who, after spending her early youth in dancing and 
riding and other diversions of young ladies in society who 
have the advantage of a house in Park Lane, suddenly be- 
came .possessed by a strange, almost savage, fascination for 
the occult lore of the ancient East. Abandoning the 
frivolities of Mayfair, she went to Girton, where she plunged 


into the study of Sanscrit. After leaving Girton, she applied 
herself to the study of the occult side of Theosophy. Then 
she married a black magician in the platonic fashion common 
to Occultists, early Christians, and Russian Nihilists, and 
since then she has prosecuted her studies into the invisible 
world with ever-increasing interest. 

11 1 see you are incredulous," she replied ; " but, if 

ie B^>dy? ght you like, I will some time afford you an oppor- 
tunity of proving that I am simply speaking the 
truth. Tell me, will you speak to me if I appear to you in my 
thought body ? " " Certainly," I replied, " unless I am struck 
dumb. Nothing would please me better. But, of course, I 
have never seen a ghost, and no one can say how any utterly 
unaccustomed experience may effect him." " Unfortunately," 
she replied, " that is too often the case. All those to whom I 
have hitherto appeared have been so scared they could not 
speak." " But, my dear friend, do you actually mean to say 

that you have the faculty of " " Going about in my 

Thought Body ? Most certainly. It is not a very uncommon 
faculty, but it is one which needs cultivation and development." 
"But what is a Thought Body ? " My hostess smiled : " It is 
difficult to explain truths on the plane of thought to those who 
are immersed body and soul in in liter. I can only tell you 
that every person has, in addition to this natural body of flesh, 
bones, and blood, a Thought Body, the exact counterpart in 
every respect of this material frame. It is contained within 
the material body, as air is contained in the lungs and in the 
blood. It is of finer matter than the gross fabric of our out- 
ward body. It is capable of motion with the rapidity of 
thought. The laws of space and time do not exist for the 
mind, and the Thought Envelope of which we are speaking 
moves with the swiftness of the mind." 

"Then when your thought body appears?" 

11 My mind goes with it. I see, I hear, and my conscious- 
ness is with my Thought Envelope. But I want to have a 
proper interview while on my thought journeys. That is why 
I ask you it you would try to speak to me if I appear." 

" But," I objected, " do you really mean that you hope to 
appear before me, in my office, as immaterial as gas, as visible 
as light, and yet to speak, to touch ? " 

"That is just what I mean," she replied, laughing, "that 
and nothing less. I was in your office the other morning at 
six o'clock, but no one was there. I have not got this curious 
power as yet under complete control. But when once we are 
able to direct it at will, imagine what possibilities it unfolds ! " 


11 But," said I, " if you can be seen and touched, you ought 
to be photographed ! " 

"I wish to be photographed, but no one can say as yet 
whether such thought bodies can be photographed. When 
next I make the experiment I want you to try. It would be 
very useful." 

Useful indeed ! It does not require very vivid imagination 
to see that if you can come and go to the uttermost parts of 
the world in your thought shape, such Thought Bodies will be 
indispensable henceforth on every enterprising newspaper. It 
would be a great saving on telegraphy. When my ideal paper 
comes alung, I mentally vowed I would have my hostess as 
first member of my staff. But of course it had got to be 
proved, and that not only once but a dozen times, before any 
reliance could be placed on it. 

"I often come down here," said my hostess cheerfully, 
"after breakfast. I just lie down in my bedroom in town, 
and in a moment I find myself here at Hindhead. Some- 
times I am seen, sometimes I am not. But I am here; seen 
or unseen, I see. It is a curious gift, and one which I am 
studying hard to develop and to control." 

"And what about clothes?" I asked. " Oh," replied my 
hostess airily, " I go in whatever clothes I like. There are 
astral counterparts to all our garments. It by no means follows 
that I appear in the same dress as that which is worn by my 
material body. I remember, when I appeared to your friend, 
I wore the astral counterpart of a white silk shawl, which was 
at the time folded away in the wardrobe." 

At this point, however, in order to anticipate the inevitable 
observation that my hostess was insane, I think I had better 
introduce the declarations of my two friends, who are quite 
clear and explicit as to their recollection of what they saw. 
The Evidence ^J witnesses are mother and daughter. The 
of the white daughter I have seen and interviewed ; the mother 
I could not see, but took a statement down from 
her husband, who subsequently submitted it in proof to her 
for correction. I print the daughter's statement first. 

"About eighteen months ago (in May, 1890) I was staying 

at the house of my friend in M Mansions. Mrs. M. had 

gone to her country house at Hindhead for a fortnight and 
was not expected back for a week. I was sitting in the 
kitchen reading Edna Lyall's 'Donovan.' About half-past 
nine o'clock I distinctly heard Mrs. M. walk up and down 
the passage which ran from the front door past the open door 


of the room in which I was sitting. I was not thinking of 
Mrs. M. and did not at the time realize that she was not in 
the flat, when suddenly I heard her voice and saw her stand- 
ing at the open door. I saw her quite distinctly, and saw 
that she was dressed in the dress in which I had usually seen 
her in an evening, without bonnet or hat, her hair being 
plaited low down close to the back of her head. The dress, 
I said, was the same, but there were two differences which I 
noticed at once. In her usual dress, the silk front was grey ; 
this time the grey colour had given place to a curious amber, 
and over her shoulders she wore a shawl of white Indian silk. 
I noticed it particularly, because the roses embroidered on it 
at its ends did not correspond with each other. All this I 

saw as I looked up and heard her say, * T , give me that 

book.' I answered, half mechanically, ' Yes, Mrs. M.,' but 
felt somewhat startled. I had hardly spoken when Mrs. M. 
turned, opened the door leading into the main building, and 
went out. I instantly got, up and followed her to the door. 
It was closed. I opened it and looked out, but could see 
nobody. It was not until then that I fully realized that there 
was something uncanny in what I had seen. I was very 
frightened, and after having satisfied myself that Mrs. M. was 
not in the flat, I fastened the door, put out the lights, and 
went to bed, burying my head under the bedclothes. The 
post next day brought a letter from Mrs. M. saying that she 
was coming by eleven o'clock. I was too frightened to stay 
in the house, and I went to my father and told him what I had 
seen. He told me to go back and hear what Mrs. M. had to 
say about the matter. When Mrs. M. arrived I told her what 
I had seen on the preceding evening. She laughed, and said, 
1 Oh ! I was here then, was I ? I did not expect to come 
here.' With that exception I have seen no apparition what- 
ever, or had any hallucination of any kind, neither have I 
seen the apparition of Mrs. M. again." 

After hearing this statement I asked Mrs. M. what she 
meant by the remark she had made on hearing Miss C.'s ex- 
planation of what she had witnessed. My hostess replied, 
" That night when I passed into the Uance state, and lay down 
on the couch in the sitting-room at Hindhead, I did so with 
the desire of visiting my husband, who was in his retreat at 
Wimbledon. That, I should say, was between nine and half- 
past. After I came out of the trance I was conscious that I 
had been somewhere, but I did not know where. I started 
from Hindhead for Wimbledon, but landed at M Man- 


sions, where, no doubt, I was more at home." " Then you had 
no memory of where you had been?" "Not the least." 
" And what about the shawl ? " " The shawl was one that 
Miss C. had never seen. I had not worn it for two years, and 
the fact that she saw it and described it, is conclusive evidence 
against the subjective character of the vision. The originals 

of all the phantom clothes were at M Mansions at the 

time Miss C. saw me wearing them. I was not wearing the 
shawl. At the time when she saw it on my Thought Body it 
was folded up and put away in a wardrobe in an adjoining 
room. She had never seen it." I asked Miss C. what was 
the appearance of Mrs. M. She replied, "She just looked as 
she does always, only much more beautiful." "How do you 
account," said I to my hostess, " for the change in colour of 
the silk front from grey to amber?" She replied, "It was a 

Haunted by * tnen asked Mr. C, the father of the last wit- 
a Thought ness, what had occurred in his wife's experience. 
y * He said, " Here is a statement which my wife 
made to me, and which you can rely upon as correct. ■ I was 
staying at Hindhead, in the lodge connected with the house 
in which you are staying. I was in some trouble, and Mrs. 
M. had been somewhat anxious about me. I had gone to 
sleep, but was suddenly aroused by the consciousness that 
some one was bending over me. When I opened my eyes I 
saw in shimmering outline a figure which I recognised at once 
as that of Mrs. M. She was bending over me, and her great 
lustrous eyes seemed to pierce my very soul. For a time I lay 
still, as if paralysed, being unable either to speak or to move, 
but at last gaining courage with time I ventured to strike a 
match. As soon as I did so the figure of Mrs. M. disappeared. 
Feeling reassured and persuaded that I had been deluded by 
my senses, I at last put out the light and composed myself to 
sleep. To my horror, no sooner was the room dark than I 
saw the spectral, shimmering form of Mrs. M. moving about 
the room, and always turning towards me those wonderful, 
piercing eyes. I again struck a match, and again the apparition 
vanished from the room. By this time I was in a mortal 
terror, and it was some time before I ventured to put out 
the light again, when a third time I saw the familiar presence 
which had evidently never left the room but simply been in- 
visible in the light. In the dark it shone by its own radiance. 
I was taken seriously ill with a violent palpitation of the heart, 
and kept my light burning. I felt so utterly upset that I could 


not remain any longer in the place and insisted next morning 
on going home. I did not touch the phantom, I simply saw 
it — saw it three times, and its haunting persistency rendered 
it quite impossible for me to mistake it for any mere night- 

Neither Mrs. nor Miss C. have had any other hallucinations, 
and Mrs. C. is strongly sceptical. She does not deny the 
accuracy of the above statement, but scouts the theory of a 
Thought Body, or of any supernatural or occult explanation. 
On hearing Mrs. C.'s evidence I asked my hostess whether 
she was conscious of haunting her guest in this way. " I knew 
nothing about it," she replied ; " all that I know was that I 
had been much troubled about her and was anxious to help her. 
I went into a very heavy, deep sleep ; but until next morning, 
when I heard of it from Mrs. C. I had no idea that my double 
had left my room." I said, " This power is rather gruesome, 
for you might take to haunting me." " I do not think so, 
unless there was something to be gained which could not be 
otherwise secured, some benefit to be conferred upon you." 
u That is to say, if I were in trouble or dangerously ill, and you 
were anxious about me, your double might come and attend 
my sick-bed." "That is quite possible," she said imperturb- 
ably. " Well," said I, " when are you coming to be photo- 
graphed ? " " Not for many months yet," she replied, with a 
laugh. " For the Thought Body to leave its corporeal tene- 
ment it needs a considerable concentration of thought, and an 
absence of all disturbing conditions or absorbing preoccu- 
pations at the time. I see no reason why I should not be 
photographed when the circumstances are propitious. I shall 
be very glad to furnish you with that evidence of the reality 
of the Thought Body, but such things cannot be fixed up to 

This, indeed, was a ghost to some purpose — a ghost free 
from all the weird associations of death and the grave — a 
healthy, utilisable ghost, and a ghost, above all, which wanted 
to be photographed. It seemed too good to be true. Yet 
how strange it was! Here we have just been discussing 
whether or not we have each of us two souls, and, behold ! my 
good hostess tells me quite calmly that it is beyond all doubt 
that we have two bodies. 

I asked Mrs. Besant whether she thought my 

^Th^ory! 11 ' 8 hostess was romancing, and whether my friends 

had not been the victim of some illusion. " Oh, 

no," said Mrs. Besant cheerfully. "There is nothing im- 


probable about it. Very possibly she has this faculty. It is 
not so uncommon as you think. But its exercise is rather 
dangerous, and I hope she is well instructed." "How?" I 
asked. " Oh," Mrs. Besant replied, " it is all right if she knows 
what she is about, but it is just as dangerous to go waltzing 
about on the astral plane as it is for a girl to go skylarking 
down a dark slum when roughs are about. Elementals, with 
the desire to live, greedily appropriating the vitality and the 
passions of men, are not the pleasantest companions. Nor 
can other astrals of the dead, who have met with sudden or 
violent ends, and whose passions are unslaked, be regarded as 
desirable acquaintances. If she knows what she is about, well 
and good. But otherwise she is like a child playing with 

" But what is an astral body ? " 

Mrs. Besant replied, " There are several astrals, each with 
its own characteristics. The lowest astral body taken in itself 
is without conscience, will, or intelligence. It exists as a mere 
shadowy phantasm only as long as the material body lasts." 
" Then the mummies in the Museum ? " " No doubt a clair- 
voyant could see their astrals keeping their silent watch by the 
dead. As the body decays so the astral fades away." " But 
that implies the possibility of a decaying ghost ? " " Certainly. 
An old friend of mine, a lady who bears a well-known name, 
was once haunted for months by an astral. She was a strong- 
minded girl, and she didn't worry. But it was rather ghastly 
when the astral began to decay. As the corpse decomposed 
the astral shrank, until at last, to her great relief, it entirely 

Mrs. Besant mentioned the name of the lady, who is well 
known to many of my readers, and one of the last to be sus- 
pected of such haunting. 

Three other ^ Sn0rt tUlie a ^ ter nearm g ^ rom mv hostess this 

Aerial incredible account of her aerial journeyings, I 
Wanderers. rece i vec i fj rs j. hand from three other ladies, state- 
ments that they had also enjoyed this faculty of bodily dupli- 
cation. All four ladies are between twenty and forty years of 
age. Three of them are married. The first says she has 
almost complete control over her movements, but for the most 
part her phantasmal envelope is invisible to those whom she 

This, it may be said, is mere conscious clairvoyance, in 
which the faculty of sight was accompanied by the conscious- 
ness of bodily presence, although it is invisible to other eyes. 


It is, besides, purely subjective and therefore beside the mark. 
Still, it is interesting as embodying the impressions of a mind, 
presumably sane, as to the experiences through which it has 
consciously passed. On the same ground I may refer to the 
experience of Miss X., the second lady referred to, who, when 
lying, as it was believed, at the point of death, declares that 
she was quite conscious of coming out of her body and looking 
at it as it lay in the bed. In all the cases I have yet mentioned 
the departure of the phantasmal body is accompanied by a state 
of trance on the part of the material body. There is not dual 
consciousness, but only a dual body, the consciousness being 
confined to the immaterial body. 

It is otherwise with the experience of the fourth wanderer 
in my text. Mrs. Wedgwood, the daughter-in-law of Mr. 
Hensleigh Wedgwood, the well-known philologist, who was 
Charles Darwin's cousin, declares that she had once a very 
extraordinary experience. She was lying on a couch in an 
upper room one wintry morning at Shorncliffe, when she felt 
her Thought Body leave her and, passing through the window, 
alight on the snowy ground. She was distinctly conscious 
both in her material body and in its immaterial counterpart. 
She lay on the couch watching the movements of the second 
self, which at the same moment felt the snow cold under its 
feet. The second self met a labourer and spoke to him. He 
replied as if somewhat scared. The second self walked down 
the road and entered an officer's hut, which was standing 
empty. She noted the number of guns. There were a score 
or more of all kinds in all manner of places ; remarked upon 
the quaint looking-glass ; took a mental inventory of the 
furniture ; and then, coming out as she went in, she regained 
her material body, which all the while lay perfectly conscious 
on the couch. Then, when the two selves were reunited, she 
went down to breakfast and described where she had been. 
" Bless me," said an officer, who was one of the party, " if you 

have not been in Major 's hut. You have described it 

exactly, especially the guns, which he has a perfect mania for 

Here the immaterial body was not only visible but audible, 
and that not merely to the casual passer-by, but also to the 
material body which had for the moment parted with one of 
its vital constituents without losing consciousness. 

It must, of course, be admitted that, with the exception of 
the statement by my two friends as to the apparition of Mrs. 
M.'s immaterial body, none of the other statements can pre- 


tend to the slightest evidential value. They may be worth as 
much as the confessions of the witches who swore they were 
dancing with Satan while their husbands held their material 
bodies clasped in their arms ; but any explanation of sub- 
jective hallucination or of downright lying would be preferred 
by the majority of people to the acceptance of the simple 
accuracy of these statements. The phenomenon of the aerial 
flight is, however, not unfamiliar to those who are interested 
in this subject. 

Th I confess, as I revise these pages, to a feeling of 

evidence of shame that Mrs. M.'s statement should have 

Psychical seemed to me so utterly incredible. My suprise 

Research a nd incredulity simply proved that I had never read 

society. the g reaj . text .b 00 k on t jj e su bject, "The Phantasms 

of the Living," by Messrs. Gurney, Myers, and Podmore, in 
which the phenomenon is shown to be comparatively frequent. 
"M.A.," of Oxon, in his most interesting and suggestive weekly 
paper Light, began a synopsis of the evidence as to the reality 
of the Thought Body. The Psychical Research Society have 
about a hundred recorded instances of the apparition of the 
Thought Body. I will only quote here two or three of the 
more remarkable cases mentioned in these imposing volumes. 
The The best case, however, of the projection of the 

Thought Thought Body at will is that described, under the 
o? a y initials of " S. H. B.," in the first volume of the 
stockbroker. << phantasms," pp . 104-109. Mr. B. is a member 
of the Stock Exchange, who is well known to many intimate 
friends of mine as a man of high character. The narrative, 
which is verified by the Psychical Research Society, places be- 
yond doubt the existence of powers in certain individuals which 
open up an almost illimitable field of mystery and speculation. 
Mr. B.'s story, in brief, is this : — 

"One Sunday night in November, 1881, I was in Kildare 
Gardens, when I willed very strongly that I would visit in 
spirit two lady friends, the Misses V., who were living three 
miles off in Hogarth Road. I willed that I should do this at 
one o'clock in the morning, and having willed it I went to sleep. 
Next Thursday, when I first met my friends, the elder lady 
told me she woke up and saw my apparition advancing to her 
bedside. She screamed and woke her sister, who also saw me." 
(A signed statement by both sisters accompanies this narrative. 
They fix the time at one o'clock, and say that Mr. B. wore 
evening dress.) 

" On December isf, 1882, I was at Southall. At half-past 




nine I sat down to endeavour to fix my mind so strongly upon 
the interior of a house at Kew, where Miss V. and her sister 
lived, that I seemed to be actually in the house. I was con- 
scious, but I was in a kind of mesmeric sleep. When I went 
to bed that night I willed to be in the front bedroom of that 
house at Kew at twelve, and make my presence felt by the 
inmates. Next day I went to Kew. Miss V.'s married sister 
told me, without any prompting from me, that she had seen 
me in the passage going from one room to another at half-past 
nine o'clock, and that at twelve, when she was wide awake, 
she saw me come into the front bedroom where she slept and 
take her hair, which is very long, into my hand. She said I 
then took her hand and gazed into the palm intently. She 
said, ' You need not look at the lines, for I never had any 
trouble.' She then woke her sister. When Mrs. L. told me 
this I took out the entry I had made the previous night and 
read it to her. Mrs. L. is quite sure she was not dreaming. 
She had only seen me once before, two years previously, at a 
fancy ball. 

"On March 22nd, 1884, I wrote to Mr. Gurney, of the 
Psychical Research Society, telling him I was going to make 
my presence felt by Miss V., at 44, Norland Square, at mid- 
night. Ten days afterwards I saw Miss V., when she volun- 
tarily told me that on Saturday at midnight she distinctly saw 
me, when she was quite widely awake. I came towards her 
and stroked her hair. She adds in her written statement, 
* The appearance in my room was most vivid and quite unmis- 
takable.' I was then at Ealing." 

Here there is the thrice-repeated projection at will of the 
Thought Body through space so as to make it both visible to, 
and tangible by, friends. But the Conscious Personality 
which willed the visit has not yet unlocked the memory of his 
unconscious partner, and Mr. B., although able to go and see 
and touch, could bring back no memory of his aerial flight. 
All that he knew was that he willed and then he slept. 'Hie 
fact that he appeared is attested not by his consciousness, but 
by the evidence of those who saw him. 

a visitor Here * s a re P ort of tne apparition of a Thought 
from Body, the material original of which was at the 

Burmah. £ mQ j n j} urma } 1> xhe case is important, because 
the Thought Body was not recognised at the time, showing 
that it could not have been a subjective revival of the memory 
of a face. It is sent me by a gentleman in South Kensington, 
who wishes to be mentioned only by his initials, R. S. S. 


"Towards the close of 188S my son, who had obtained an 
appointment in the Indian Civil Service, left England for 

"A few days after his arrival in Rangoon he was sent up the 
country to join the District Commissioner of a district still at 
that period much harassed by Dacoits. 

"After this two mails passed by without news of him, and as, 
up to this period, his letters had reached us with unfailing 
regularity, we had a natural feeling of anxiety for his safety. 
As the day for the arrival of the third mail drew near I be- 
came quite unreasonably apprehensive of bad news, and in this 
state of mind I retired one evening to bed, and lay awake till 
long past the middle of the night, when suddenly, close to my 
bedside, appeared very distinctly the figure of a young man. 
The face had a worn and rather sad expression ; but in the few 
seconds during which it was visible the impression was borne 
in upon me that the vision was intended to be reassuring. 

" I cannot explain why I did not at once associate this form 
with my son, but it was so unlike the hale, fresh-looking youth 
we had parted from only four or five months previously that I 
supposed it must be his chief, whom I knew to be his senior 
by some five years only. 

"I retailed this incident to my son by the next mail, and was 

perplexed when I got his reply to hear that his chief was a 

man with a beard and moustache, whereas the apparition was 

devoid of either. A little later came a portrait of himself 

recently taken. It was the subject of my vision, of which the 

traits had remained, and still remain, in every detail, perfectly 

distinct in my recollection." 

Thought Here is an account of a visit paid at will, which 

visits seen is reported at first hand in the " Proceedings of 

remembered, the Psychical Research Society." The narrator, 

Mr. John Moule, tells how he determined to make 

an experiment of the kind now under discussion : — 

" I chose for this purpose a young lady, a Miss Drasey, and 
stated that some day I intended to visit her, wherever the 
place might be, although the place might be unknown to me ; 
and told her if anything particular should occur to note the 
time, and when she called at my house again to state if any- 
thing had occurred. One day, about two months after (I not 
having seen her in the interval), I was by myself in my 
chemical factory, Redman Row, Mile End, London, all alone, 
and I determined to try the experiment, the lady being in 
Dalston, about three miles off. I stood, raised my hands, and 



willed to act on the lady. I soon felt that I had expended 
energy. I immediately sat down in a chair and went to sleep. 
I then saw in a dream my friend coming down the kitchen 
stairs where I dreamt I was. She saw me, and exclaimed 
suddenly, ' Oh ! Mr. Moule,' and fainted away. This I 
dreamt and then awoke. I thought very little about it, sup- 
posing I had had an ordinary dream ; but about three weeks 
after she came to my house and related to my wife the 
singular occurrence of her seeing me sitting in the kitchen 
where she then was, and she fainted away and nearly dropped 
some dishes she had in her hands. All this I saw exactly in 
my dream, so that I described the kitchen furniture and where 
I sat as perfectly as if I had been there, though I had never 
been in the house. I gave many details, and she said, ' It is 
just as if you had been there.'" (Vol. III. pp. 420, 421.) 

Mr. W. A. S., to quote another case, in April, 187 1, at two 
o'clock in the afternoon, was sitting in a house in Pall Mall. 
He saw a lady glide in backwards at the door of the room, as 
if she had been slid in on a slide, each part of her dress keep- 
ing its proper place without disturbance. She glided in until 
the whole of her could be seen, except the tip of her nose, her 
lips, and the tip of her chin, which were hidden by the edge of 
the door. She was an old acquaintance of his, whom he had 
not seen for twenty or twenty-five years. He observed her 
closely until his brother entered the house, and coming into 
the room passed completely through the phantasm, which 
shortly afterwards faded away. Another person in the room 
could not see it. Some years afterwards he learned that she 
had died the same year, six months afterwards, from a painful 
cancer of the face. It was curious that the phantasm never 
showed him the front of its face, which was always hid by the 
door. (Vol. II. p. 517.) 

One of the cases mentioned in Vol. I. p. 226 of the " Pro- 
ceedings of the Psychical Society," that of the Rev. Mr. 
Newnham, will probably induce many lovers to reproduce that 
phantasmal experience. I mention it, but do not dwell upon 
it. It opens up a vista of possibilities, which taken in connec- 
tion with certain well-known phenomena treated by De Foe, in 
his " Natural History of the Devil," might carry us further than 
we should care to go. 

Dr f r. Another case in which the double appeared was 
Lees's ' that of Dr. F. R. Lees, the well-known temperance 
Double, controversialist. On communicating with the 
Doctor, the following is his reply : — 


" The little story or incident of which you have heard, 
occurred above thirty years ago, and may be related in very 
few words. Whether it was coincidence, or transference of 
vivid thought, I leave to the judgment of others, 

" I had left Leeds for the Isle of Jersey (though my dear wife 
was only just recovering from a nervous fever), to fulfil an 
important engagement. On a Good Friday, myself and a party 
of friends in several carriages drove round a large portion of 
the island, coming back to St. Heliers from Boulay Bay, taking 

tea about seven o'clock at Captain 's villa. The party 

broke up about ten o'clock, and the weather being fine and 
warm, I walked to the house of a banker who entertained me. 
Naturally my evening thoughts reverted to my home, and after 
reading a few verses in my Testament, I walked about the 
room until nearly eleven, thinking of my wife, and breathing 
the prayer, ' God bless you.' 

"I might not have recalled all the circumstances, save for the 
letter I received by the next post from her, with the query put 
in : ' Tell me what you were doing within afeiv minutes of eleven 
o'clock on Friday evening ? I will tell you in my next why I 
ask • for something happened to me.' In the middle of the 
week the letter came, and these words in it : — ' I had just 
awoke from a slight repose, when I saw you in your night-dress 
bend over me, and utter the words, " God bless you ! " I 
seemed also to feel your breath as you kissed me. I felt no 
alarm, but comforted, went off into a gentle sleep, and have 
been better ever since.' I replied that this was an exact re- 
presentation of my mind and words." 

Here there was apparently the instantaneous reproduction 
in Leeds of the image, and not only of the image, but of 
the words spoken in Jersey, a hundred miles away. The 
theory that the phantasmal body is occasionally detachable 
from the material frame accounts for this in a fashion, and 
that is more than can be said for any other hypothesis that 
has yet been slated. In neither of these cases did an early 
death follow the apparition of the dual body. 

I have received from a valued correspondent, 
DoSe h see S n Mrs. Mary A. M. Marks, a statement of her experi- 

Dan i?r ence on occasion when she saw the wraith of 
her mother, which I reproduce here. 

The circumstance I am about to relate took place when I 
was just ten years old. My father, the late Professor Hoppus, 
of University College, London, lived in Camden Street, Cam- 
den Town. As in most houses of the same date, the drawing- 


rooms were on the first floor, and communicated by folding 
doors, each having, of course, a door on the landing. My 
mother had been ill for three years ; the back drawing-room 
was her bedroom. She was not confined to bed, but spent 
most of the day on a sofa in the front drawing-room. Some- 
where about 10 o'clock in the morning — as I remember, though 
winter, it was rather bright — I was coming downstairs from 
my own room on the second floor. I wanted some one to tie 
my pinafore, and I was looking for my nurse. As I came 
down, I saw that the door (on the landing) of the front room 
was shut, but the door of the bedroom was wide open. I 
knew therefore that my mother was probably already gone into 
the front room, and I expected to find my nurse making the 
bed. But when I reached the landing, and could see into the 
back room, I saw my mother standing near the farther wall — 
at most not more than five yards from me — close to the hot- 
water pipes of the Arnott stove, which my father had had put up 
for her comfort. I distinctly saw her tall figure, wrapped in 
the blue-and-white striped dressing-gown she usually wore in 
the daytime. In those days people wore nightcaps — hers was 
on her head ; her face was turned away from me and towards 
the wall. The folding doors were closed. I did not expect 
to find my mother there at that hour, but the figure was as 
distinct and seeming solid as reality, and I have never been 
able to explain to myself the feeling which withheld me from 
going up to her, and asking her to tie my pinafore. I did not 
go in ; I opened the door of the front room and looked in. 
As I somehow expected, I saw my mother there, asleep on the 
sofa, in her blue-and-white gown. 

" My father, who had a great horror of children being 
frightened by ghost stories, had told me that garments, etc., 
had sometimes given rise to these stories, by real or fancied 
resemblances to a human form. In spite of his attempts to 
shield me from such knowledge, I had read a little about 
1 Second Sight,' and I determined to see whether anything of 
this kind could have deceived me. I accordingly went at 
once into the bedroom. The figure was no longer there, and 
I could find nothing — not so much as a towel — near the spot 
where scarcely a minute before I had seen my mother stand- 
ing — except those dark-bronze pipes, which would not have 
come much above her knee as she stood, and which no trick 
of vision could have transformed into a tall white-and-blue 
figure. My nurse was not there. I do not think I felt 
frightened, but I remember now the dull pang with which I 


thought — when I found it impossible to account for the 
appearance — ' Then my mother will not get well.' She, how- 
ever, did not die for six months. I told no one of what I had 
seen for many years — not until after I grew up. I have never 
had any other experience of the same kind." 

The following curious experience is sent me by 
DoUbi e e S s S . a commercial traveller, who gives his name and 
address in support of his testimony. Writing from 
Nottingham, he says : — 

"On Tuesday, the 6th October, I had a very singular ex- 
perience. I am a commercial traveller, and represent a firm 
of cigar manufacturers. I left my hotel about four o'clock on 
the above date to call upon a customer, a Mr. Southam, Myton 
Gate, Hull. I met this gentleman in the street, nearly 
opposite his office ; he shook hands, and said, ' How are you ? 
I am waiting to see a friend ; I don't think I shall want any 
cigars this journey, but look in before eight o'clock.' I called 
at 7.30, and spoke to the clerk in the office. He said, ' Mr. 
Southam has made out your cheque, and there is also a small 
order. 5 I said, ' Thanks, I should have liked to have seen 
him ; he made an appointment this afternoon for about eight.' 
Clerk says, 'Where?' I said, 'Just outside.' He said, 'That 
is impossible, as both Mr. and Mrs. Southam have been con- 
fined to their room for a fortnight and never been out.' I 

said, 'How strange. I said to Mr. S , "You look different 

to your usual ; what's the matter with you ? " Mr. S ■ 

said, ' Don't you see I am in my deshabille ? ' The clerk re- 
marked, ' You must have seen his second self, for he has not 
been up to-day.' I came away feeling very strange. 

"J. P. Brooks. 
"Sydney Villa, RatclifYe Road, Bridgeford." 
Mrs. Eliz. G. L , of H House, sends me the follow- 
ing report of her experience of the double. She writes : — 

" The only time I ever saw an apparition was on the even- 
ing of the last day of May, i860. The impression then made 
is yet most vivid, and the day seldom recurs without my 
thinking of what happened then. 

" It was a little after seven o'clock, the time for my hus- 
band's return from business. I was passing through the hall 
into the dining-room, where tea was laid, when (the front door 
being open) I saw my husband coming up the garden path, 
which was in a direct line with the hall. It was broad day- 
light, and nothing obstructed my view of him, and he was 
not more than nine or ten yards from me. Instead of going 


to him, I turned back, and said to the servant in the kitchen, 
1 Take tea in immediately, your master is come.' I then went 
into the dining-room, expecting him to be there. To my 
great surprise the room was empty, and there was no one in 
the garden. As my father was very ill in the next house but 
one to ours, I concluded that Mr. L had suddenly de- 
termined to turn back and enquire how he was before having 
tea. In half an hour he came into the room to me, and I 
asked how my father was, when, to my astonishment, he told 
me that he had not called, but had come home direct from the 
town. I said, ' You were in the garden half an hour ago, I saw 
you as distinctly as I see you now ; if you were not there then, 
you are not here now] and I grasped his arm as I spoke to 
convince myself that it was really he. I thought that my hus- 
band was teasing me by his repeated denials, and that he 
would at last confess he was really there ; and it was only 
when he assured me in the most positive and serious manner 
that he was a mile away at the time I saw him in the garden, 
that I could believe him. I have never been able to account 
for the appearance. There was no one I could possibly have 

mistaken for Mr. L . I was in good health at the time, 

and had no illness for long afterwards. My mother is still 
living, and she can corroborate my statement, and bear witness 
to the deep impression the occurrence made upon me. I sa7u 
my husband as plainly as I have ever seen him since during 
the many years we have lived together." 

Mr. Robert Kidd, of Gray Street, Broughty 
1 DoiFbks d . ee Ferry, who has filled many offices in Dundee, hav- 
ing been twenty-five years a police commissioner 
and five years a magistrate there, sends me the following report 
of two cases of the double : — 

"A few years ago I had a shop on the High Street of Dun- 
dee — one door and one window, a cellar underneath, the 
entrance to which was at one corner of the shop. There was 
no way of getting in or out of the cellar but by that stair in 
the corner. It was lighted from the street by glass, but to pro- 
tect that there was an iron grating, which was fixed down. 
Well, I had an old man, a servant, named Robert Chester. I 
sent him a message one forenoon about 12 o'clock ; he was in 
no hurry returning. I remarked to my daughter, who was 
book-keeper, whose desk was just by the trap-door, that he 
was stopping long. Just as I spoke he passed the window, 
came in at the door, carrying a large dish under his arm, went 
right past me, past my daughter, who looked at him, and went 


down into the cellar. After a few minutes, as I heard no 
noise, I remarked what he could be about, and went down to 
see. There was no Robert there. I cannot tell what my 
sensations were when I realized this ; there was no possibility 
of his getting out, and we both of us saw and heard him go 
down. Well, in about twenty minutes he re-passed the win- 
dow, crossed the floor, and went downstairs, exactly as in the 
first time. There was no hallucination on our part. My 
daughter is a clever, highly-gifted woman ; I am seventy-eight 
years of age, and have seen a great deal of the world, a great 
reader, etc., etc., and not easily deceived or apt to be led away 
by fancy, and I can declare that his first appearance to us was 
a reality as much as the second. We concluded, and so did 
all his relations, that it portended his death, but he is still 
alive, over eighty years of age. I give this just as it occurred, 
without any varnish or exaggeration whatever. The other I 
firmly believe, as I knew the parties well, and that every means 
were used to prove its truthfulness. 

" Mr. Alexander Drummond was a painter, who had a big 
business and a large staff of men. His clerk was Walter 
Souter, his brother-in-law. His business was to be at the shop 
(in Northgate, Dundee) sharp at six o'clock in the morning, to 
take an account of where the men were going, quantity of 
material, etc. In this he was assisted by Miss Drummond. 
One morning he did not turn up at the hour, but at twenty 
past six he came in at the door and appeared very much 
excited ; but instead of stepping to the desk, where Mr. and 
Miss Drummond were awaiting him, he went right through 
the front shop and out at a side door. This in sight of Mr. 

and Miss D , and also in sight of a whole squad of 

workmen. Well, exactly in another twenty minutes he came 
in, also very much excited, and explained that it was twenty 
minutes past six when he awakened, and that he had run all 
the way from his house (he lived a mile from the place of 
business). He was a very exemplary, punctual man, and when 
Mr. Drummond asked him where he went to when he came 
first, he was dumbfounded, and could not comprehend what 

was meant. To test his truthfulness, Mr. D went out 

to his wife that afternoon, when she told him the same story : 
that it was twenty past six o'clock when he awoke, and that he 
was very much excited about it, as it was the first time he had 
slept in. This story I believe as firmly as in my own case, as 
it was much talked about at the time, and I have just told it 
as it was told to me by all the parties. Of course I am a 


total stranger to you, and you may require to know something 
about me before believing my somewhat singular stories. I 
am well known about here, have filled many offices in Dundee, 
and have been twenty-five years a police commissioner, and 
five years a magistrate in this place, am very well known to the 
Right Honourable C. Ritchie, and also to our county member, 
Mr. Barclay. If this little story throws any light upon our 
wondrous being I shall be glad." 

A The following narrative, supplied by Mr. R. P. 

Manchester Roberts, io, Exchange Street, Manchester, appears 
Parallel. j Q the « Proceedings of the Psychical Research 
Society." It is a fitting pendant to Mr. Kidd's story : — 

" The shop stood at the corner of Castle Street and Rating 
Row, Beaumaris, and I lived in the latter street. One day 
I went home to dinner at the usual hour. When I had 
partly finished I looked at the clock. To my astonishment it 
appeared that the time by the clock was 12.30. I gave an 
unusual start. I certainly thought that it was most extra- 
ordinary. I had only half-finished my dinner, and it was time 
for me to be at the shop. I felt dubious, so in a few seconds 
had another look, when to my agreeable surprise I found that 
I had been mistaken. It was only just turned 12. 15. I could 
never explain how it was I made the mistake. The error gave 
me such a shock for a few minutes as if something had 
happened, and I had to make an effort to shake off the sensa- 
tion. I finished my dinner, and returned to business at 12.30. 
On entering the shop I was accosted by Mrs. Owen, my 
employer's wife, who used to assist in the business. She 
asked me rather sternly where I had been since my return 
from dinner. I replied that I had come straight from dinner. 
A long discussion followed, which brought out the following 
facts. About a quarter of an hour previous to my actual 
entering the shop {i.e. about 12.15), I was seen by Mr. and 
Mrs. Owen and a well-known customer, Mrs. Jones, to walk 
into the shop, go behind the counter, and place my hat upon 
the peg. As I was going behind the counter, Mrs. Owen 
remarked, with the intention that I should hear, * that I had 
arrived now that I was not wanted.' This remark was 
prompted by the fact that a (qw minutes previous a customer 
was in the shop in want of an article which belonged to the 
stock under my charge, and which could not be found in my 

absence. As soon as this customer left I was seen to enter 

the shop. It was observed by Mr. and Mrs. Owen and Mrs. 

Jones that I did not appear to notice the remark made. In 


fact, I looked quite absent-minded and vague. Immediately 
after putting my hat on the peg I returned to the same spot, 
put my hat on again, and walked out of the shop, still looking 
in a mysterious manner, which incensed one of the parties, I 
think Mrs. Owen, to say that my behaviour was very odd, and 
she wondered where I was off to. 

"I, of course, contradicted these statements, and endeavoured 
to prove that I could not have eaten my dinner and returned 
in a quarter of an hour. This, however, availed nothing, and 
during our discussion the above-mentioned Mrs. Jones came 
into the shop again, and was appealed to at once by Mr. and 
Mrs. Owen. She corroborated every word of their account, 
and added that she saw me coming down Rating Row when 
within a few yards of the shop ; that she was only a step or 
two behind me, and entered the shop in time to hear Mrs. 
Owen's remarks about my coming too late. These three per- 
sons gave their statement of the affair quite independently of 
each other. There was no other person near my age in the 
Owens' establishment, and there could be no reasonable doubt 
that my form had been seen by them and by Mrs. Jones. They 
would not believe my story until my aunt, who had dined with 
me, said positively that I had not left the table before my 
time was up. You will, no doubt, notice the coincidence. 
At the moment when I felt, with a startling sensation, that I 
ought to be at the shop, and when Mr. and Mrs. Owen were 
extremely anxious that I should be there, I appeared to them 
looking, as they said, ' as if in a dream or in a state of som- 
nambulism.' " (" Proceedings of the Psychical Research 
Society," Vol. I. p. 135-6.) 

Avery ^ correspondent, writing from a Yorkshire 

visible village, sends me the following account of an 

apparition of a Thought Body in circumstances 

when there was nothing more serious than a yearning desire on 

the part of a person whose phantasm appeared to occupy his 

old bed. My correspondent, Mr. J. G , says that he took 

it down from the lips of one of the most truthful men he ever 
knew, and a sensible person to boot. This person is still 

living, and I am told he has confirmed Mr. G 's story, 

which is as follows : — 

"Sixty years ago I was a farm servant at a place in Pem- 
brokeshire (I can give the name, but don't wish it to be pub- 
lished). I was about fifteen years old. I, along with three 
other men-servants, slept in a granary in the yard. Our bed- 
chamber was reached by means of ten broad stone steps. It 


was soon after Allhallows time, when all farm servants change 
places in that part of the country. A good and faithful fore- 
man, who had been years on the farm, had this time desired a 
change, and had engaged to service some fifteen miles off, a 
change which he afterwards much regretted. 

" One night I woke up in my bed some time during the 
small hours of the morning, and obedient to the call of nature, 
I got up, opened the door, and stood on the upper step of the 
stairs. It was a beautiful moonlight night. I surveyed the 
yard and the fields about. To my surprise, but without the 
least apprehension, I noticed a man coming down a field, 
jump over a low wall, and walk straight towards me. He 
stepped the three first steps one by one, then he took two 
or three steps at a stride. I knew the man well and re- 
cognised him perfectly. I knew all the clothes he wore, 
particularly a light waistcoat which he put on on great 
occasions. As he drew near me I receded to the doorway, 
and as he lifted up his two hands, as in the act of opening the 
door, which was open already, I fled in screaming, and passing 
my own bed jumped in between two older men in the next 
bed. And neither time nor the sympathy of my comrades 
could pacify me for hours. 

" I told my tale, which, after searching and seeing nobody, 
they disbelieved and put down to my timidity. 

"Next morning, however, just as we were coming out from 
breakfast, in the presence of all of us the discharged foreman 
was seen coming down the same field, jumping the wall, walk 
toward the sleeping chamber, ascend the steps, lifting up his 
two hands to open the door in the self-same manner in every 
particular as I had described, and went straight to the same 
bed as I got into. 

"I asked him, 'Were you here last night, John?' 

" ' No, my boy,' was the answer ; ' my body was not here 
but my mind was. I have run away from that horrid place, 
travelled most of the night, and every step I took my mind 
was fixed on this old bed, where my weary bones might be at 

I can supply names and all particulars, but do not wish 
them to be published. 
Seeing your * n nis " Footfalls," Mr. Owen records a still 
own Thought more remarkable case of the duplication of the 
body. A gentleman in Ohio, in 1833, had built 
a new house, seventy or eighty yards distant from his old resi- 
dence on the other side of a small ravine. One afternoon, 


about five o'clock, his wife saw his eldest daughter, Rhoda, 
aged sixteen, holding the youngest, Lucy, aged four, in her 
arm, sitting in a rocking-chair just within the kitchen door of 
the new residence. She called the attention of another sister 
to what she saw, and was startled to hear that Rhoda and Lucy 
were upstairs in the old house. They were at once sent for, 
and on coming downstairs they saw, to their amazement, their 
exact doubles sitting on the doorstep of the new house. All 
the family collected — twelve in all — and they all saw the 
phantasmal Rhoda and Lucy, the real Rhoda and Lucy stand- 
ing beside them. " The figures seated at the hall door, and 
the two children now actually in their midst, were absolutely 
identical in appearance, even to each minute particular of 
dress." After watching them for five minutes, the father 
started to cross the ravine and solve the mystery. Hardly 
had he descended the ravine when the phantasmal Rhoda rose 
from the rocky chair, with the child in her arms, and lay down 
on the threshold. There she remained a moment or two, and 
then apparently sank into the earth. When the father reached 
the house no trace could be found of any human being. Both 
died within a year. 

A correspondent of my own, a dressmaker in the North of 
England, sends me the following circumstantial account of how 
she saw her own double without any mischief following : — 

" I have a sewing-machine, with a desk at one side and carved 
legs supporting the desk part; on the opposite side the machine 
part is. The lid of the machine rests on the desk part when 
open, so that it forms a high back. I had this machine across 
the corner of a room, so that the desk part formed a triangle 
with the corner of the room. I sat at the machine with my 
face towards the corner. To my left was the window, to my 
right the fire ; at each side of my chair the doors of the machine 
walled me in as I sat working the treadles. Down each side 
of the machine are imitations of drawers. The wood is a 
beautiful walnut. I was sewing a long piece of material, which 
passed from left to right. It was dinner-time, so I looked 
down to see how much more I had to do. It was almost 
finished, but there, in the space near the window, between the 
wall and the machine, was a full-sized figure of myself from the 
waist upwards. The image was lower than myself, but clear 
enough, with brown hair and eyes. How earnestly the eyes 
regarded me ; how thoughtfully ! I laughed and nodded at 
the image, but still it gazed earnestly at me. At its neck was 
a bright red bow, coming unpinned. Its white linen collar 


was turned up at the right-hand corner. When I got down to 
dinner I told my brother George I had seen Pepper's Ghost, 
and it was a distinct image of myself, clear enough, and yet I 
could see the wall and the side of the machine through the 
image, and George said, ' Had it a red bow and white collar 
on?' 'Oh, yes,' I said. 'It was just like me, only nicer, 
and when I laughed and nodded, it looked grave.' 'Very 
likely,' said George. " It would think you very silly. And 
was its bow coming unpinned?' 'Yes,' I replied ; 'and the 
right point of its collar was turned up.' He reached me a 
hand-mirror, and I saw that my bow was coming unpinned and 
the right point of my collar was turned up. So it could not 
have been a reflection, or it would not have been the right 
point but the left of my collar that was turned up." 
The wraith * n tne North country it is of popular belief that 
as a to see the ghost of a living man portends his ap- 

Portent. p r0 achiiig decease. The Rev. Henry Kendall, of 
Darlington, from whose diary (unpublished) I have the liberty 
to quote, notes the following illustration of this belief, under 
date August 16th, 1870 : — 

" Mrs. W. mentioned a curious incident that happened in 
Darlington : how Mrs. Percy, upholsterer, and known to several 
of us, was walking along the street one day when her husband 
was living, and she saw him walking a little way before her ; 
then he left the causeway and turned in at a public-house. 
When she spoke to him of this, he said he had not been near 
the place, and she was so little satisfied with his statement that 
she called in at the ' public,' and asked them if her husband 
had been there, but they told her ' No.' In a very short 
period after this happened he died." 

The phenomenon of a dual body haunted the imagination 
of poor Shelley. Shortly before his death he believed he had 
seen his wraith : — 

'"On the 23rd of June,' says one of his biographers, 'he 
was heard screaming at midnight in the saloon. The Williamses 
ran in and found him staring on vacancy. He had had a 
vision of a cloaked figure which came to his bedside and 
beckoned him to follow. He did so, and when they had 
reached the sitting-room, the figure lifted the hood of his cloak 
and disclosed Shelley's own features, and saying, "Sietesoddis- 
fatto ? " vanished. This vision is accounted for on the ground 
that Shelley had been reading a drama attributed to Calderon, 
named "El Embozado o El Encapotado," in which a mysterious 
personage who had been haunting and thwarting the hero all 


his life, and is at last about to give him satisfaction in a due], 
finally unmasks and proves to be the hero's own wraith. He 
also asks, " Art thou satisfied ? " and the haunted man dies of 

"On the 29th of June some friends distinctly saw Shelley 
walk into a little wood near Lerici, when in fact he was in a 
wholly different direction. This was related by Byron to Mr. 

It is difficult to frame any theory that will account for this 
double apparition, except, of course, the hypothesis of down- 
right lying on the part of the witnesses. But the hypothesis 
of the duplication of the body in this extraordinary fashion is 
one which cannot be accepted until the immaterial body 
is photographed under test conditions at the same time that 
the material body is under safe custody in another place. Of 
course, it is well to bear in mind that to all those who profess 
to know anything of occult lore, and also to those who have 
the gift of clairvoyance, there is nothing new or strange in the 
doctrine of the immaterial body. Many clairvoyants declare 
that they constantly see the apparitions of the living mingling 
with the apparitions of the dead. They are easily distinguish- 
able. The ghost of a living person is said to be opaque, where- 
as the ghost of one from whom life has departed is diaphanous 
as gossamer. 

All this, of course, only causes the unbeliever to blaspheme. 
It is to him every whit as monstrous as the old stories of the 
witches riding on broomsticks. But the question is not to be 
settled by blasphemy on one side or credulity on the other. 
There is something behind these phantasmal apparitions ; 
there is a real substratum of truth, if we could but get at it. 
There seems to be some faculty latent in the human mind, by 
which it can in some cases impress upon the eye and ear of a 
person at almost any distance the image and the voice. We 
may call it telepathy or what we please. It is a marvellous 
power, the mere hint of which indefinitely expands the horizon 
of the imagination. The telephone is but a mere child's toy 
compared with the gift to transmit not only the sound of the 
voice but the actual visible image of the speaker for hundreds 
of miles without any conductor known to man. 

Hypnotism is the key which will enable us to 
The Hypnotic un i oc ] c most f these mysteries, and so far as 
hypnotism has spoken it does not tend to encour- 
age the belief that the immaterial body has any substance other 
than the hallucination of the person who sees it, Various 


cases are reported by hypnotist practitioners which suggest 
that there is an almost illimitable capacity of the human mind 
to see visions and to hear voices. One very remarkable case 
was that of a girl who was told at midsummer by the hypnotist, 
when in the hypnotic state, that he would come to see her on 
New Year's Day. When she awoke from the trance she knew 
nothing about the conversation. One hundred and seventy- 
one days passed without any reference to it. Bat on the 
172nd day, being New Year's Day, she positively declared that 
the doctor had entered her room, greeted her, and then de- 
parted. Curiously enough, as showing the purely subjective 
character of the vision, the doctor appeared to her in the 
depth of winter wearing the light summer apparel he had on 
when he made the appointment in July. In this case there 
can be no question as to the apparition being purely subjec- 
tive. The doctor did not make any attempt to visit her in 
his immaterial body, but she saw him and heard him as if he 
were there. 

The late Mr. Gurney conducted some experiments with a 
hypnotic subject which seem to confirm the opinion that the 
phantasmal body is a merely subjective hallucination, although, 
of course, this would not explain how information had been 
actually imparted to the phantasmal visitant by the person who 
saw, or imagined they saw, his wraith. Mr. Gurney's cases are, 
however, very interesting, if only as indicating the absolute 
certainty which a hypnotised patient can be made to feel as to 
the objectivity of sights and sounds : — 

" S. hypnotised Zillah, and told her that she would see him 
standing in the room at three o'clock next afternoon, and that 
she would hear him call her twice by name. She was told 
that he would not stop many seconds. On waking, as on the 
former occasion, she had no notion of the ideas impressed 
upon her. 

"Next day, however, she came upstairs about five minutes 
past three, looking ghastly and startled. She said, ' I have 
seen a ghost.' I assumed intense amazement, and she said 
she was in the kitchen cleaning some silver, and suddenly she 
heard her name called sharply twice over, 'Zillah!' in Mr. 
Smith's voice. She said, ' And I dropped the spoon I was 
rubbing, and turned and saw Mr. S., without his hat, standing 
at the foot of the kitchen stairs. I saw him as plain as I see 
you,' she said, and looked very wild and vacant. 

" The next experiment took place on Wednesday evening, 
July 13th, 1887, when S., told her, when hypnotised, that the 


next afternoon, at three o'clock, she would see me (Mr. Gurney) 
come into the room to her. She was further told that I would 
keep my hat on and say, ' Good-morning,' and that I would 
further remark, ' It is very warm,' and would then turn round 
and walk out. 

" Next day this is what Zillah reported. She said, ' I was in 
the kitchen washing up, and had just looked at the clock, and 
was startled to see how late it was (five minutes to three) when 
I heard footsteps coming down the stairs — rather a quick, light 
step — and I thought it was Mr. Sleep ' (the dentist whose 
rooms are in the house), ■ but as I turned round, with a dish 
mop in one hand and a plate in the other, I saw some one 
with a hat on who had to stoop as he came down the last step, 
and there was Mr. Gurney. He was dressed just as I saw 
him last night, black coat and grey trousers, his hat on, and a 
roll of paper like manuscript in his hand, and he said, " Oh ! 
good-afternoon." And then he glanced all round the kitchen, 
and he glanced at me with an awful look, as if he was going 
to murder me, and said, " Warm afternoon, isn't it ? " and then 
"Good-afternoon," or, "Good-day," I am not sure which, and 
then turned and went up the stairs again ; and after standing 
thunderstruck a minute, I ran to the foot of the stairs and saw 
just like a boot disappearing on the top step.' She said, 'I think 
I must be going crazy. Why should I always see something at 
three o'clock each day after the seance?' " (Vol. V. pp. 11-13.) 

Whatever hypothesis we select to explain these mysteries, 
they do not become less marvellous. Even if we grant that it 
is mere telepathy, or mind affecting mind at a distance without 
the use of the recognised organs of sense or of any of the 
ordinary conducting mediums, what an enormous extension it 
gives to the ordinary conception of the limits of the human 
mind ! To be able instantaneously to paint upon the retina of 
a friend's eye the life-like image of ourselves, to make our voice 
sound in his ears at a distance of many miles, and to com- 
municate to his mind information which he had never before 
heard of, all this is, it may be admitted, as tremendous a draft 
upon the credulity of mankind as the favourite Theosophical 
formula of the astral body. Yet who is there who, in face of 
the facts and experiences recorded above, will venture to 
deny that one or other of these hypotheses alone can account 
for the phenomena under consideration? 
- „„ . It is obvious that when once the possibility of 

ences of the Double is admitted, many mysteries could be 

Doubling. c j eare( j U p } although it is also true that a great 



many inconveniences would immediately follow; as the Attor- 
ney-General for the Cape observed to me in discussing the 
matter, the establishment of the reality of the double would 
invalidate every plea of alibi. If a man can really be in two 
places at one time, there is an end to the plea which is most 
frequently resorted to by the accused to prove their innocence. 
There are other inconveniences, which are alluded to in the 
following letter from a lady correspondent, who believes that 
she has the faculty in frequent, although uncertain and uncon- 
scious, use : — 

" ' I saw you yesterday, and you cut me.' Such was the 
remark I frequently heard from my friends : in the broad day- 
light they saw me in street or tram, etc. Once a personal 
friend followed me into church on Christmas Day in a city at 
least ioo miles from where I really was. Another time I sat 
two pews in front of a friend at a cathedral service. When 
I denied having been there, she said, ' It's no good talking : 
I saw you, and you didn't want to wait for me.' ' But,' I 
said, ' you have my word that I was not there.' ' Yes,' she 
said, 'but I have my sight, and I saw you.' Of course, 
I naturally thought it was some one like me, and said, perhaps 
rather sarcastically, ' Would it be very strange if any one else 
bore some resemblance tome?' ( No,' said my friend, ' it 
would not; but some one else doesn't wear your clothes.' 
On one occasion I remember three people saw me where 
I certainly was not physically present the same day ; all knew 
me personally. I often bought books of a man who kept 
a second-hand bookstall. One day he told me that he had 
a somewhat rare edition of a book I wanted, but that it was 
at the shop. I said, ' I'll come across to-morrow for it if 
I make up my mind to give the price.' The next day I was 
prevented from going, and went the day after, to hear it was 
sold. 'Why didn't you keep it ?' I asked. 'I thought you 
did not want it when you came yesterday and did not buy it.' 
' But I didn't come yesterday.' « Why, excuse me, you did, 
and took the book up and laid it down again while I was 
serving Mr. M., and you went away before I could ask you 
about it ; Mr. M. remarked that it was strange you did not 
answer him when he spoke.' When I asked the gentleman 
referred to, he confirmed the story. Mrs. B. also saw me 
lower down the same street that morning. 

" Still it never struck me that it was anything strange; I was 
only rather curious to see the woman who was so like me. 
I saw her in an unexpected manner. Going into my room 


one night, I happened to glance down at my bed, and saw 
a form there. I thought it strange, yet was not startled. I 
bent over it, and recognised my own features distinctly. I 
was in perfect health at the time, and no disaster followed." 
Queen * n a vomme j ust published by Macmillan & 

Elizabeth's Co., entitled "Legendary Fictions of the Irish 

Double. Celrj „ j find the fo nowiDg references to the 
Double : — 

" If this phantom be seen in the morning it betokens good 
fortune and long life to its prototype ; if in the evening a near 
death awaits him. This superstition was known and felt in 
England even in the reign of Elizabeth. We quote passage 
from Miss Strickland's account of her last illness : — ■ 

11 'As her mortal illness drew towards a close, the supersti- 
tious fears of her simple ladies were excited almost to mania, 
even to conjuring up a spectral apparition of the Queen while 
she was yet alive. Lady Guildford, who was then in waiting on 
the Queen, leaving her in an almost breathless sleep in her 
privy chamber, went out to take a little air, and met her 
Majesty, as she thought, three or four chambers off. Alarmed 
at the thought of being discovered in the act of leaving the 
Royal patient alone, she hurried forward in some trepidation 
in order to excuse herself, when the apparition vanished away. 
She returned terrified to the chamber, but there lay the Queen 
still in the same lethargic slumber in which she left her.' " 



" Moreover, the spirit lifted me up and brought me unto the East gate, and, 
behold, at the door of the gate five-and-twenty men, among whom I saw," etc. 
— Ezekiel xi. I. 

WHEN I was staying the other day at Orchardlea, in 
Windsor Forest, I did most of my writing in a spacious 
window on the first floor looking out over the garden. It 
opened French fashion, and thereby occasioned a curious 
optical illusion, which may perhaps help to shed some light 
upon the phenomena now under consideration. For when 
the sun was high in the sky and the French window was set 
at a certain angle, the whole of the flowers, figures, etc., on my 
right hand appeared reflected upon the lawn on the left hand 
as vividly as if they actually existed in duplicate. So real was 
the illusion that for some hours I was under the impression 
that a broad yellow gravel path actually stretched across the 
lawn on my left. It was only when a little dog ran along the 
spectral path and suddenly vanished into thin air that I dis- 
covered the illusion. Nothing could be more complete, more 
life-like. The real persons who walked up the gravel to the 
house walked across the spectral gravel, apparently in dupli- 
cate. Both could be seen at one and the same time. I 
instantly thought that they could be photographed, so as to 
show the duplication produced by the illusion. Unfortunately, 
although the spectral path w r as distinctly visible through the 
glass to the eye, no impression whatever was left on the sensi- 
tive plate. My friend w r rites : — 

" I have tried the phantom path, and I am sorry to say it 
is too phantom to make any impression on the plate. All that 
you get is the blaze of light from the glass window, some very 
faint trees, and no path at all. Possibly, with a June sun, it 
might have been different ; but I doubt it, as one is told never 
to put the camera facing a window. It is having to take 
through the glass window which is fatal." 

This set me thinking. It was a simple optical illusion, no 


doubt, similar to that which enabled Pepper to produce his 
ghosts at the Polytechnic. But what was the agency which 
enabled me to see the figures and flowers, and trees and 
gravel, all transferred, as by the cunning act of some magician, 
from the right to the left ? Simply a swinging pane of per- 
fectly transparent glass. To those who have neither studied 
the laws of optics nor seen the phenomenon in question, 
it must seem impossible that a pellucid window-pane could 
transfer so faithfully that which happened at one end of the 
garden to the other as to cause it to be mistaken for reality. 
Yet there was the phenomenon before my eyes. The dog ran 
double— the real dog to the right, the spectral dog to the left— 
and no one could tell at first sight " t'other from which." 
Now, may it not be that this supplies a suggestion as to the 
cause of the phenomenon of clairvoyance ? Is it not possible 
that there may exist in Nature some as yet undiscovered 
analogue to the swinging window-pane which may enable us 
to see before our eyes here and now events which are trans- 
piring at the other end of the world? In the mysterious, 
sub-conscious world in which the clairvoyant lives, may there 
not be some subtle, sympathetic lens, fashioned out of strong 
affection or some other relation, which may enable some of us 
to see that which is quite invisible to the ordinary eye ? 
A .. .. . The usual explanation of these things is that the 

A Natural .... l . . . r °. 

camera vision is the revival of some forgotten impressions 
Obscura. on fa Q brain. But in neither of the foregoing 
cases will that explanation suffice, for in neither case had the 
person who saw ever been in the place of which they had 
a vision. One desperate resource, the convenient theory of 
pre-existence, is useless here. The fact seems to be that there 
is a kind of invisible camera obscura in Nature, which at odd 
times gives us glimpses of things happening or existing far 
beyond the range of our ordinary vision. The other day 
when in Edinburgh I climbed up to the Camera Obscura that 
stands near the castle, and admired the simple device by which, 
in a darkened room upon a white, paper-covered table, the 
whole panorama of Edinburgh life was displayed before me. 
There were the " recruities " drilling on the Castle Esplanade ; 
there were the passers-by hurrying along High Street ; there 
were the birds on the housetops, and the landscape of 
chimneys and steeples, all revealed as if in the crystal of a 
wizard's cave. The coloured shadows chased each other 
across the paper, leaving no trace behind. Five hundred years 
ago the owner of that camera would have been burned as 


a wizard ; now he makes a comfortable living out of the three- 
pennypieces of inquisitive visitors. Is it possible to account 
for the phenomena of clairvoyance other than by the supposi- 
tion that there exists somewhere in Nature a gigantic camera 
obscura which reflects everything, and to which clairvoyants 
habitually, and other mortals occasionally, have access ? 

Seen and '^ ie P rece(nn g incidents simply record a pro- 
Heard at 150 vision of places subsequently visited. The follow- 
MUes Range. - n g are j ns t ances m vvhich not only places, but 
occurrences, were seen as in a camera by persons at a distance 
varying from 150 to several thousand miles. Space seems 
to have no existence for the clairvoyant. They are quoted 
from the published " Proceedings of the Psychical Research 
Society " : — 

"On September 9th, 1848, at the siege of Mooltan, Major- 
General R , C.B., then adjutant of his regiment, was most 

severely and dangerously wounded ; and supposing himself to 
be dying, asked one of the officers with him to take the ring 
off his finger and send it to his wife, who at the time was fully 
150 miles distant, at Ferozepore. 

" ' On the night of September 9th, 1848/ writes his wife, 
1 I was lying on my bed between sleeping and waking, when 
I distinctly saw my husband being carried off the field, 
seriously wounded, and heard his voice saying, " Take this 
ring off my finger and send it to my wife." All the next day 
I could not get the sight or the voice out of my mind. In 

due time I heard of General R having been severely 

wounded in the assault of Mooltan. He survived, however, 
and is still living. It was not for some time after the siege 

that I heard from General L , the officer who helped to 

carry General R off the field, that the request as to the 

ring was actually made to him, just as I heard it at Ferozepore 
at that very time.' " (Vol. I. p. 30). 

The above case is remarkable because the voice 

Deathb^fin was transmitted as well as the spectacle. In the 

France seen nex t story the ear heard nothing, but the scene 

itself was very remarkable. A correspondent of 

the Psychical Research Society writes : — 

" I was staying with my mother's cousin, Mrs. Elizabeth 
Broughton, wife of Mr. Edward Broughton, Edinburgh, and 
daughter of the late Colonel Blanckley, in the year 1844, and 
she told me the following strange story : — 

" She awoke one night and roused her husband, telling him 
that something dreadful had happened in France, He begged 


her to go to sleep again and not to trouble him. She assured 
him that she was not asleep when she saw what she insisted 
on then telling him — what she saw, in fact. First, a carriage 
accident — which she did not actually see, but what she saw was 
the result — a broken carriage, a crowd collected, a figure gently 
raised and carried into the nearest house, then a figure lying 
on a bed, which she then recognised as the Duke of Orleans. 
Gradually friends collecting round the bed — among them 
several members of the French royal family — the queen, then 
the king, all silently, tearfully watching the evidently dying 
duke. One man (she could see his back, but did not know 
who he was) was a doctor. He stood bending over the duke, 
feeling his pulse, his watch in the other hand. And then all 
passed away \ she saw no more. As soon as it was daylight 
she wrote down in her journal all that she had seen. From 
that journal she read this to me. It was before the days 
of electric telegraph, and two or more days passed before 
the Times announced ' The Death of the Duke of Orleans.' 
Visiting Paris a short time afterwards, she saw and recognised 
the place of the accident and received the explanation of her 
impression. The doctor who attended the dying duke was 
an old friend of hers, and as he watched by the bed his mind 
had been constantly occupied with her and her family." 
(Vol. II. p. 1 60.) 

The doctor's sympathy may have been the key to the 
secret camera of Nature, but it in no wise "explains" how 
a lady in Edinburgh could see what went on inside a house in 
Paris so clearly as to know what had happened two days 
before the intelligence reached the Times. 
Dr. Horace ^ n Horace Bushnell, in his " Nature and the 

Bushneirs Supernatural," tells a story, on the authority of 
Captain Yonnt, which differs from the foregoing in 
having a definite purpose, which, fortunately, was attained. 
Captain Yonnt, a patriarch in the Napa valley of California, 
told Dr. Bushnell that six or seven years before their conversa- 
tion he had seen a vision which saved several lives. Here is 
his story : — 

"At my request he gave me his story. About six or seven 
years previous, in a mid-winter's night, he had a dream, in 
which he saw what appeared to be a company of emigrants 
arrested by the snows of the mountains and perishing rapidly 
by cold and hunger. He noted the very cast of the scenery, 
marked by a huge, perpendicular front of white rock cliff; he 
saw the men cutting off what appeared to be tree-tops rising 


out of deep gulfs of snow ; he distinguished the very features 
of the persons and the look of their particular distress. He 
awoke profoundly impressed by the distinctness and apparent 
reality of the dream. He at length fell asleep, and dreamed 
exactly the same dream over again. In the morning he could 
not expel it from his mind. Falling in shortly after with an 
old hunter comrade, he told his story, and was only the more 
deeply impressed by his recognising without hesitation the 
scenery of the dream. This comrade came over the Sierra, by 
the Carson Valley Pass, and declared that a spot in the Pass 
answered exactly his description. By this the unsophistical 
patriarch was decided. He immediately collected a company 
of men, with mules and blankets and all necessary provisions. 
The neighbours were laughing meantime at his credulity. 
1 No matter,' he said, ' I am able to do this, and I will ; for I 
verily believe that the fact is according to my dream.' The 
men were sent into the mountains one hundred and fifty miles 
distant, directly to the Carson Valley Pass. And there they 
found the company exactly in the condition of the dream, and 
brought in the remnant alive." (" Nature and the Super- 
natural," p. 14.) 

The wife of a Dean of the Episcopal Church in 
^Vpfre" one °^ t ^ ie Southern States of America was visiting 
at my house while I was busy collecting materials 
for this work. Asking her the usual question as to whether 
she had ever experienced anything of the phenomena usually 
called supernatural, apparently because it is not the habitual 
experience of every twenty-four hours, she ridiculed the idea. 
Ghosts ? not she. She was a severely practical, matter-of-fact 
person, who used her natural senses, and had nothing to do 
with spirits. But was she quite sure ; had nothing ever 
occurred to her which she could not explain ? Then she 
hesitated and said, " Well, yes ; but there is nothing super- 
natural about it. I was staying away down in Virginia, some 
hundred miles from home, when one morning, about eleven 
o'clock, I felt an over-powering sleepiness. I never sleep in 
the daytime, and that drowsiness was, I think, almost my only 
experience of that kind. I was so sleepy I went to my room 
and lay down. In my sleep I saw quite distinctly my home 
at Richmond in flames. The fire had broken out in one wing 
of the house, which I saw with dismay was where I kept all 
my best dresses. The people were all about trying to check 
the flames, but it was of no use. My husband was there, 
walking about before the burning house, carrying a portrait in 


his hand. Everything was quite clear and distinct, exactly as 
if I had actually been present and seen everything. After a 
time I woke up, and, going downstairs, told my friends the 
strange dream I had had. They laughed at me, and made 
such game of my vision that I did my best to think no more 
about it. I was travelling about, a day or two passed, and 
when Sunday came I found myself in a church where some 
relatives were worshipping. When I entered the pew they 
looked rather strange, and as soon as the service was over I 
asked them what was the matter. ' Don't be alarmed,' they 
said, 'there is nothing serious.' They then handed me a post- 
card from my husband which simply said, 'House burned out; 
covered by insurance.' The date was the day on which my 
dream occurred. I hastened home, and then I learned that 
everything had happened exactly as I had seen it. The fire 
had broken out in the wing which I had seen blazing. My 
clothes were all burnt, and the oddest thing about it was that 
my husband, having rescued a favourite picture from the burn- 
ing building, had carried it about among the crowd for some 
time before he could find a place in which to put it safely." 
Swedenborg, it will be remembered, also had a clairvoyant 
vision of a fire at a great distance. 
The Loss of ^ classic instance of the exercise of this faculty 
the "Strath- is the story of the wreck of the Strathmore. In 
brief the story is as follows : — The father of a son 
who had sailed in the Strathmore, an emigrant ship outward 
bound from the Clyde, saw one night the ship foundering 
amid the waves, and saw that his sod, with some others, had 
escaped safely to a desert island near which the wreck had 
taken place. He was so much impressed by this vision that 
he wrote to the owner of the Strathmore, telling him what he 
had seen. His information was scouted ; but after awhile the 
Strathmore was overdue and the owner got uneasy. Day 
followed day, and still no tidings of the missing ship. Then, 
like Pharaoh's butler, the owner remembered his sins one day 
and hunted up the letter describing the vision. It supplied at 
least a theory to account for the vessel's disappearance. All 
outward-bound ships were requested to look out for any sur- 
vivors on the island indicated in the vision. These orders 
being obeyed, the survivors of the Strathmore were found 
exactly where the father had seen them. In itself this is suffi- 
cient to confound all accepted hypotheses. Taken in con- 
nection with other instances of a similar nature, what can be 
said of it excepting that it almost necessitates the supposition 


of the existence of the invisible camera obscura which the 
Theosophists describe as the astral light ? 

The exceeding triviality of the incident often destroys the 
possibility of belief in the ordinary superstition that it was a 
direct Divine revelation. This may be plausible in cases of the 
Strathmore, where the intelligence was communicated of the 
loss of an English ship, but no one can seriously hold it when 
the only information to be communicated was a stumble on 
the stairs. 

Considering the enormous advantages which such an astral 
camera would place in the hands of the detective police, I was 
not surprised to be told that the officers of the Criminal In- 
vestigation Department in London and Chicago occasionally 
consult clairvoyants as to the place where stolen goods are to 
be found, or where the missing criminals may be lurking. 
An Irish out- One °f tne Dest stories of clairvoyance as a 
rage seen in means of throwing light on crime is thus told by a 
ream * correspondent of the Psychical Research Society : — 

"One morning in December, 1836, he had the following 
dream, or, he would prefer to call it, revelation. He found 
himself suddenly at the gate of Major N. M.'s avenue, many 
miles from his home. Close to him was a group of persons, 
one of whom was a woman with a basket on her arm, the rest 
men, four of whom were tenants of his own, while the others 
were unknown to him. Some of the strangers seemed to be 
murderously assaulting H. W., one of his tenants, and he 
interfered. ' I struck violently at the man on my left, and then 
with greater violence at the man's face on my right. Finding, 
to my surprise, that I had not knocked down either, I struck 
again and again with all the violence of a man frenzied at the 
sight of my poor friend's murder. To my great amazement I 
saw my arms, although visible to my eye, were without sub- 
stance, and the bodies of the men I struck at and my own 
came close together after each blow through the shadowy arms 
I struck with. My blows were delivered with more extreme 
violence than I ever think I exerted, but I became painfully 
convinced of my incompetency. I have no consciousness of 
what happened after this feeling of unsubstantially came upon 
me.' Next morning A. experienced the stiffness and soreness 
of violent bodily exercise, and was informed by his wife that in 
the course of the night he had much alarmed her by striking 
out again and again with his arms in a terrific manner, ' as if 
fighting for his life.' He, in turn, informed her of his dream, 
and begged her to remember the names of those actors in it 


who were known to him. On the morning of the following 
day (Wednesday) A. received a letter from his agent, who 
resided in the town close to the scene of the dream, informing 
him that his tenant had been found on Tuesday morning at 
Major N. M.'s gate, speechless and apparently dying from a 
fracture of the skull, and that there was no trace of the mur- 
derers. That night A. started for the town, and arrived there 
on Thursday morning. On his way to a meeting of magis- 
trates he met the senior magistrate of that part of the country, 
and requested him to give orders for the arrest of the three 
men whom, besides H. W., he had recognised in his dream, 
and to have them examined separately. This was at once 
done. The three men gave identical accounts of the occur- 
rence, and all named the woman who was with them. She was 
then arrested, and gave precisely similar testimony. They said 
that between eleven and twelve on the Monday night they had 
been walking homewards altogether along the road, when they 
were overtaken by three strangers, two of whom savagely as- 
saulted H. W., while the other prevented his friends from 
interfering. H. W. did not die, but was never the same man 
afterwards; he subsequently emigrated." (Vol. I. p. 142.) 

The advantage which would accrue from the universal estab- 
lishment of this instantaneous vision would not be unmixed. 
That it is occasionally very useful is obvious. 

When I was in Newcastle I availed myself of the 
M DrSm!' S opportunity to call upon Mr. Burt, M.P., who has 
left his old house in Lovaine Crescent, and now 
lives in one of the new streets nearer the Moor. On question- 
ing him as to whether he had ever seen a ghost, he replied in 
the negative, but remarked that he had had one experience 
which had made a deep impression upon his mind, which 
partook more of the nature of clairvoyance than the apparition 
of a phantom. " I suppose it was a dream," said Mr. Burt. 
"The dream or vision, or whatever else you call it, made a 
deep impression upon my mind. You remember Mr. Craw- 
ford, the Durham miners' agent, was ill for a long time before 
his death. Just before his death he rallied, and we all hoped 
he was going to get better. I had heard nothing to the con- 
trary, when one morning early I had a very vivid dream. I 
dreamed that I was standing by the beside of my old friend. 
I passed my hand over his brow, and he spoke to me with 
great tenderness, with much greater tenderness than he had 
ever spoken before. He said he was going to die, and that 
he was comforted by the long and close friendship that had. 


existed between us. I was much touched by the feeling with 
which he spoke, and felt awed as if I were in the presence of 
death. When I woke up the impression was still strong in 
my mind, and I could not resist the feeling that Crawford was 
dying. In a few hours I received a telegram stating that he 
was dead. This is more remarkable because I fully expected 
he was going to get better, and at the moment of my dream 
he seems to have died. I cannot give any explanation of how 
it came about. It is a mystery to me, and likely to remain 

This astral camera, to which "future things unfolded lie," 
also retains the imperishable image of all past events. Mr. 
Browning's great uncle's studs brought vividly to the mind of 
the clairvoyant a smell of blood, and recalled all the particulars 
of the crime of which they had been silent witnesses. Any 
article or relic may serve as a key to unlock the chamber of 
this hidden camera. 

a ciairvo ant ^he most remarkable experiment in clairvoyant 
vision of a detection that I have ever come across is told by 

Murder. ^ Backman, of Kalmar, in a recent number of the 
"Psychical Research Society's Proceedings." It is as follows : — 

In the month of October, 1888, the neighbourhood of 
Kalmar was shocked by a horrible murder committed in the 
parish of Wissefjerda, which was about fifty kilometres from 
Kalmar as the crow flies. What happened was that a farmer 
named P. J. Gustafsson had been killed by a shot when 
driving, having been forced to stop by stones having been 
placed on the road. The murder had been committed in the 
evening, and a certain tramp was suspected, because Gustafsson, 
in his capacity of under bailiff, had arrested him, and he had 
then undergone several years' penal servitude. 

This was all that I or the public knew about the case on 
November 1st of the same year. The place where the murder 
was committed and the persons implicated in it were quite 
unknown to me and the clairvoyant. 

On the same day, November 1st, having some reason to 
believe that such a trial would be at least partially successful, 
I experimented with a clairvoyant, Miss Agda Olsen, to try if 
it was possible to get some information in this way about such 
an event. 

The judge of the neighbourhood, who had promised to be 
present, was unfortunately prevented from coming. The 
clairvoyant was hypnotised in my wife's presence, and was 
then ordered " to look for the place where the murder had 


been committed and see the whole scene, follow the murderer 
in his flight, and describe him and his home and the motive 
for the murder.' Miss Olsen then spoke as follows, in great 
agitation, sometimes using violent gestures. I took notes of 
her exact words and reproduce them here fully. 

" ' It is between two villages — I see a road — in a wood — 
now it is coming — the gun — now he is coming along, driving 
— the horse is afraid of the stones — hold the horse ! hold the 
horse ! now ! now he is killing him — he was kneeling when 
he fired — blood ! blood ! — now he is running in the wood — 
seize him ! — he is running in an opposite direction to the 
horse in many circuits— not on any footpaths. He wears a 
cap and grey clothes — light — has long coarse brown hair, 
which has not been cut for a long time — grey-blue eyes — 
treacherous looks — great dark brown beard — he is accustomed 
to work on the land. I believe he has cut his right hand. 
He has a scar or a streak between his thumb and forefinger. 
He is suspicious and a coward. 

" 'The murderer's home is a red wooden house, standing a 
little way back from the road. On the ground-floor is a room 
which leads into the kitchen, and from that again into the 
passage. There is also a larger room which does not com- 
municate with the kitchen. The church of Wissefjerda is 
situated obliquely to your right when you are standing in the 

" ' His motive w r as enmity ; it seems as if he had bought 
something — taken something — a paper. He went away from 
home at daybreak, and the murder was committed in the 

" Miss Olsen was then awakened, and, like all my subjects, 
she remembered perfectly what .she had been seeing, which 
had made a very profound impression on her; she added 
several things which I did not write down. 

"On November 6th (Monday) I met Miss Olsen, and she 
told me in great agitation that she had met the murderer from 
Wissefjerda in the street. He was accompanied by a younger 
person and followed by two policemen, and was walking from 
the police office to the gaol. I at once expressed my doubts 
of her being right, partly because country people are generally 
arrested by the country police, partly because they are always 
taken directly to gaol. But when she insisted on it, and 
maintained that it was the person she had seen when asleep, 
I went to the police office. 

" I inquired if any one had been arrested on suspicion of the 


crime in question, and a police-constable answered that such 
was the case, and that, as they had been taken to the town on 
Sunday, they had been kept in the police-station over night, 
and after that had been obliged to go on foot to gaol, accom- 
panied by two constables. The police-constable, T. A. Ljung, 
states that Dr. Backman described quite accurately the appear- 
ance of the house, its furniture, how the rooms were situated, 
where the suspected man lived, and gave a very correct 
account of Niklas Jonnasson's personal appearance. The 
doctor also asked me if I had observed that Jonnasson had a 
scar on his right hand. I had not then observed it, but since 
then I have ascertained that it really is so, and Jonnasson says 
that he got it from an abscess. 

"The trial was a long one, and showed that Gustafsson had 
agreed to buy for Jonnasson, but in his own name, the latter's 
farm, which was sold by auction on account of Jonnasson's 
debts. This is what is called a thiefs bargain. Gustafsson 
bought the farm, but kept it for himself. The statements of 
the accused men were very vague ; the father had prepared an 
alibi with much care, but it failed on account for just the 
length of time that was probably enough to commit the 
murder in. The son tried to prove an alibi by means of two 
witnesses, but these confessed that they had given false 
evidence, which he had bribed them to do when they were in 
prison with him on account of another matter. 

"But though the evidence against the defendants was very 
strong, it was not considered that there was sufficient legal evi- 
dence, and, there being no jury in Sweden, they were left 
to the verdict of posterity " (pp. 213-216). 
n . . Clairvoyance is closely related to the phenomenon 

Clairvoyance r , J . . J . . r 

and the of the Double, for the clairvoyant seems to have 

Double. e j tner tne f acu ity f transporting herself to distant 
places, or of bringing the places within range of her sight. 
Here is a narrative sent me by Mr. Masey, Fellow of the 
Geological Society, writing to me from 8, Gloucester Road, 
Kew, which illustrates the connection between clairvoyance 
and the Double : — ■ 

" Mrs. Mary Masey, who resided on Redcliffe Hill, Bristol, at 
the beginning of this century, was a member of the Society of 
Friends, and was held in high esteem for piety. 

"A memorable incident in her life was that one night she 
dreamt that a Mr. John Henderson, a noted man of the same 
community, had gone to Oxford, and that he had died there. 
In the course of the next day, Mr. Henderson called to take 


leave of her, saying he was going to Oxford to study a subject 
concerning which he could not obtain the information he 
wanted in Bristol. Mrs. Masey said to him, ■ John Hender- 
son, thou wilt die there.' Some time afterwards, Mrs. Masey 
woke her husband one night, saying, ■ Remember, John 
Henderson died at Oxford at two o'clock this morning, and it 
is now three.' Her husband, Philip Masey, made light of it ; 
but she told him that while asleep she had been transported to 
Oxford, where she had never been before, and that she had 
entered a room there, in which she saw Mr. John Henderson 
in bed, the landlady supporting his head, and the landlord 
with several other persons standing around. "While gazing at 
him some one gave him medicine, and the patient, turning 
round, perceived her, and exclaimed, ' Oh, Mrs. Masey, I am 
going to die ; I am so glad you are come, for I want to tell 
you that my father is going to be very ill, and you must go 
and see him.' He then proceeded to describe a room in his 
father's house, and a bureau in it, ' in which is a box contain- 
ing a remedy ; give it him, and he will recover.' Her impres- 
sion and recollection of all the persons in the room at Oxford 
was most vivid, and she even described the appearance of the 
house on the opposite side of the street. The only person she 
appeared not to have seen in the room was a clergyman who 
was present. The husband of Mrs. Masey accompanied Mr. 
Henderson's father to the funeral, and on their journey from 
Bristol to Oxford by coach (the period being before railways 
and telegraphs existed), Mr. Philip Masey related to him the 
particulars of his son's death, as described by his wife, which, 
on arrival, they found to have been exactly as told by Mrs. 

" Mrs. Masey was so much concerned about the death of Mr. 
Henderson, jun., that she forgot all about the directions he 
had given her respecting the approaching illness of his father, 
but some time afterwards she was sent for by the father, who 
was very ill. She then remembered the directions given her 
by the son on his death-bed at Oxford. She immediately 
proceeded to the residence of Mr. Henderson, and on arrival 
at the house she found the room, the bureau, the box, and the 
medicine exactly as had been foretold to her. She administered 
the remedy as directed, and had the pleasure of witnessing the 
beneficial effect by the complete recovery of Mr. Henderson 
from a serious illness." 

Here we have almost every variety of psychic experience. 
First of all there is second sight pure and simple ; second 


there is the aerial journey of the Double, with the memory of 
everything that had been seen and heard at the scene which it 
had witnessed ; third, there is communication of information 
which at that moment was not known to the precipient ; fourth, 
we have another prediction ; and finally, we have a complete 
verification and fulfilment of everything that was witnessed. It 
is idle to attempt to prove the accuracy of statements made 
concerning one who has been dead nearly a hundred years, 
but the story, although possessing no evidential value, is 
interesting as an almost unique specimen of the comprehensive 
and complicated prophetic ghost and clairvoyant story. 

Clairvoyance is a gift, and a comparatively rare gift. It is 
a gift which requires to be much more carefully studied and 
scientifically examined than it has been hitherto. It is a by- 
path to many secrets. It may hold in it the clue to the 
acquisition of great faculties, hitherto regarded as forbidden to 
mere mortals. 

It is difficult for those who are not clairvoyant 

My own t0 understand what those who are clairvoyant de- 
scribe, often with the most extraordinary precision 
and detail. Unfortunately for myself I am not a clairvoyant, 
but on one occasion I had an experience which enabled me to 
understand something of clairvoyant vision. I had been work- 
ing late at night, and had gone to bed at about two o'clock in 
the morning somewhat tired, having spent several hours in pre- 
paring " Real Ghost Stories " for the press. I got into bed, 
but was not able to go to sleep, as usual, as soon as my head 
touched the pillow. I suppose my mind had been too much 
excited by hard work right up to the moment of going to bed 
for me readily to go to sleep. I shut my eyes and waited for 
sleep to come ; instead of sleep, however, there came to me a 
succession of curiously vivid clairvoyant pictures. There was 
no light in the room, and it was perfectly dark ; I had my eyes 
shut also. But, notwithstanding the darkness, I suddenly was 
conscious of looking at a scene of singular beauty. It was as 
if I saw a living miniature about the size of a magic-lantern 
slide. At this moment I can recall the scene as if I saw it 
again. It was a seaside piece. The moon was shining upon 
the water, which rippled slowly on to the beach. Right before 
me a long mole ran out into the water. On either side of the 
mole irregular rocks stood up above the sea-level. On the 
shore stood several houses, square and rude, which resembled 
nothing that I had ever seen in house architecture. No one 
but the moon was there, and the sea and the 


gleam of the moonlight on the rippling waters was just as if I 
had been looking out upon the actual scene. It was so beauti- 
ful that I remember thinking that if it continued I should be 
so interested in looking at it that I should never go to sleep. 
I was wide awake, and at the same time that I saw the scene I 
distinctly heard the dripping of the rain outside the window. 
Then suddenty, without any apparent object or reason, the 
scene changed. The moonlit sea vanished, and in its place 
I was looking right into the interior of a reading-room. It 
seemed as if it had been used as a schoolroom in the daytime 
and was employed as a reading-room in the evening. I re- 
member seeing one reader, who had a curious resemblance to 
Tim Harrington, although it was not he, hold up a magazine 
or book in his hand and laugh. It was not a picture — it was 
there. The scene was just as if you were looking through an 
opera-glass ; you saw the play of the muscles, the gleaming of 
the eye, every movement of the unknown persons in the un- 
named place into which you were gazing. I saw all that with- 
out opening my eyes, nor did my eyes have anything to do 
with it. You see such things as these, as it were, with another 
sense, which is more inside your head than in your eyes. This 
was a very poor and paltry experience, but it enabled me 
to understand better how it was that clairvoyants see than any 
amount of disquisition. The pictures were apropos of nothing ; 
they had been suggested by nothing I had been reading or 
talking of, they simply came as if I had been able to look 
through a glass at what was occurring somewhere else in the 
world. I had my peep and then it passed, nor have I had a 
recurrence of a similar experience. 

Crystal-gazing is somewhat akin to clairvoyance. 
gaSiff" There are some people who cannot look into an 
ordinary globular bottle without seeing pictures 
form themselves, without any effort or will on their part, in the 
crystal globe. This is an experience which I have never been 
able to enjoy. But I have seen crystal-gazing going on at a 
table at which I have been sitting on one or two occasions 
with rather remarkable results. The experiences of Miss X. in 
crystal-gazing have been told at length and in detail in the 
" Proceedings of the Psychical Research Society." On looking 
into the crystal on two occasions as a test, to see if she could 
see me when she was several miles off, she saw, not me, but a 
different friend of mine on each occasion, whom she had never 
seen, but whom she immediately identified on seeing them 
afterwards at my office. On one of the evenings on which we 



experimented in the vain attempt to photograph a Double, 
I dined with Madame C. and her friend at a neighbouring 
restaurant. As she glanced at the water-bottle Madame C. 
saw a picture beginning to form, and, looking at it from 
curiosity, described with considerable detail an elderly gentle- 
man whom she had never seen before, and whom I did not in 
the least recognise from her description at the moment. Three 
hours afterwards, when the seance was over, Madame C. 
entered the room and recognised Mr. Elliott, of Messrs. Elliott 
& Fry, as the gentleman whom she had seen and described in 
the water-bottle at the restaurant. On another occasion the 
picture was less agreeable : it was an old man lying dead in a 
bed with some one weeping at his feet ; but what it was or 
what it related to no one knew. 

Crystal-gazing seems to be the least dangerous and most 
simple of all methods of experimenting. You simply look into 
a crystal globe the size of a five-shilling piece, or a water-bottle 
which is full of clear water, and is placed so that too much 
light does not fall upon it, and then simply look at it. You 
make no incantations and engage in no mumbo-jumbo busi- 
ness ; you simply look at it for two or three minutes, taking 
care not to tire yourself, winking as much as you please, but 
fixing your thought upon whoever it is you wish to see. Then, 
if you have the faculty, the glass will cloud over with a milky 
mist, and in the centre the image is gradually precipitated in 
just the same way as a photograph forms on the sensitive 
plate. At least, the description given by crystal-gazers as to 
the way in which the picture appears reminded me of nothing 
so much as what I saw when I stood inside the largest camera 
in the world, in which the Ordnance Survey photographs its 
maps at Southampton. 



" But there are many such things in Nature, though we have not the right 
key to them. We all walk in mysteries. We are surrounded by an atmo- 
sphere of which we do not know what is stirring in it, or how it is connected 
with our own spirit. So much is certain— that in particular cases we can put 
out the feelers of our soul beyond its bodily limits, and that a presentiment, 
nay, an actual insight into, the immediate future is accorded to it." — Goethe's 
" Conversations with Eckermann.'' 

IF clairvoyance partakes of the nature of the camera obscura, 
by which persons can see at a distance that which is going 
on beyond the direct range of their vision, it is less easy to 
suggest an analogy to explain the phenomena of premonition 
or second sight. Although I have never seen a ghost — for 
none of my hallucinations are scenic — I may fairly claim to 
have a place in this census on the ground of the extraordinary 
premonitions I have had at various times of coming events. 
The second sight of the Highlander is always scenic ; he does 
not hear so much as he sees. If death is foreshadowed, the 
circumstances preceding and following the event pass as in 
dramatic scene before the eyes of the seer. It is much as if 
the seers had access to a camera obscura which enabled them 
not only to see that which was occurring at the same moment 
in various parts of the world, but in its magic mirror could 
reflect events which have not yet been as if they were already 
existent. The phenomena of premonition, combined with the 
faculties of clairvoyance by which the percipient is able to 
reproduce the past, make a great breach in our conceptions of 
both time and space. To the Deity, in the familiar line of the 
hymn, "future things unfolded lie"; but from time to time 
future things, sometimes most trivial, sometimes most impor- 
tant, are unfolded to the eye of mortal man. Why or how one 
does not know. All that he can say is that the vision came 
and went in obedience to some power over which he had no 
conscious control. The faculty of foreseeing, which in its 
higher forms constitutes no small part of a prophet's power, is 
said to exist among certain families, and to vary according to 


the locality in which they are living. Men who have second 
sight in Skye are said to lose it on the mainland. But resi- 
dence in Skye itself is not sufficient to give the Englishman 
the faculty once said to be possessed by its natives. In Eng- 
land it is rare, and when it exists it is often mixed up with 
curious and somewhat bewildering superstitions, signs and 
omens portending death and disaster, which can hardly be 
regarded as being more than seventh cousins of the true 

Burden The S^ °f second sight is by no means an un- 
of second mixed boon. Dr. Baumgarten tells me that the 
Sight * Westphalians in Prussia possess the same gift which 
in Scotland is said to be indigenous to the islanders of 
Skye. The Westphalian peasantry, so far from^ regarding it as 
a privilege, are delighted when an opportunity is afforded 
them of transferring the unwelcome faculty to some stranger 
who is willing to bear the burden of seership. Von Goerris, 
whom Napoleon jestingly called the fifth power in Europe on 
account of the indomitable manner in which he used the Press 
in order to rouse Prussia against French dominance, collected 
an immense number of cases which are to be found, together 
with many other matters, in his book " Mystic," the three 
volumes of which have never been translated into the English 
language, and are not likely to be, owing to the abstruseness of 
the subject and the crabbedness of the German. Some West- 
phalians appear to be literally haunted by their uncanny faculty 
of seeing into the future. It is bad enough to face death when 
it comes, without having anticipatory coffins coming into sight 
all round you. The Westphalian usually sees his coffin seven 
days before he dies ; nor is it only his own coffin that is 
revealed to him, he has a faculty of seeing the coffins of his 
neighbours with a clearness which makes it somewhat disagree- 
able for him to be in a crowd, especially when an epidemic is 
about. Their second sight is nearly always a vision of disaster ; 
they do not, as a rule, foresee pleasant things. The method by 
which the gift of second sight is transferred from one to 
another Dr. Baumgarten did not explain. 

I can make no claim to the proud prerogative of the seer, 
but upon several occasions I have had some extraordinary pre- 
monitions of what was about to happen. I can give no 
explanation as to how they came, all that I know is they 
arrived, and when they arrived I recognised them beyond all 
possibility of mistake. * I have had three or four very striking 
and vivid premonitions in my life which have been fulfilled 


to the letter. I have others which await fulfilment. Of the 
latter I will not speak here — although I have them duly 
recorded — for were I to do so I should be accused of being 
party to bringing about the fulfilment of my own predictions. 
Those which have already been fulfilled, although of no general 
importance to any one else, were of considerable importance 
to me, as will be seen by the brief outline concerning three of 

t „,„;„. The first occasion on which I had an absolutely 

jueaving ....... P . . . J 

Darlington unmistakable intimation of the change about to 

Fore-seen. occur j n m y own c i rcums tances was in 1880, the 

year in which I left the editorship of the Northern Echo to 

become the assistant of Mr. John Morley on the Pall Mall 


On New Year's Day, 1880, it was forcibly impressed upon 
my mind that I was to leave Darlington in the course of that 
year. I remember on the 1st of January meeting a journalistic 
confrere on my way from Darlington station to the Northern 
Echo office. After wishing him a Happy New Year, I said, 
" This is the last New Year's Day I shall ever spend in Dar- 
lington : I shall leave the Northern Echo this year." My 
friend looked at me in some amazement, and said, "And 
where are you going to ? " " To London," I replied, " be- 
cause it is the only place which could tempt me from my 
present position, which is very comfortable, and where I have 
perfect freedom to say my say." " But," said my friend, some- 
what dubiously, " what paper are you going to ? " "I have no 
idea in the world," I said ; " neither do I know a single London 
paper which would offer me a position on their staff of any 
kind, let alone one on which I would have any liberty of utter- 
ance. I see no prospect of any opening anywhere. But I 
know for certain that before the year is out I shall be on the 
staff of a London paper." " Come," said my friend, " this is 
superstition, and with a wife and family I hope you will do 
nothing rashly." " You need not fear as to that," I said ; " I 
shall not seek any position elsewhere, it will have to come to me 
if I have to go to it. I am not going to throw myself out of 
a berth until I know where my next place is to be. Humanly 
speaking, I see no chance of my leaving Darlington, yet I have 
no more doubt than of my own existence that I shall be gone 
by this time next year." We parted. The General Election 
soon came upon us, and when the time came for renewing my 
engagement on the Northern Echo, I had no option but to 
renew my contract and bind myself to remain at Darlington 


until July, 1880. Although I signed the contract, when the 
day arrived on which I had either to give notice or renew my 
engagement, I could not shake from me the conviction that I 
was destined to leave Darlington at least six months before my 
engagement expired. At that time the Pall Mall Gazette was 
edited by Mr. Greenwood, and was, of all the papers in the 
land, the most antipathetic to the principles upon which I had 
conducted the Northern Echo. The possibility of my becom- 
ing assistant editor to the editor of the Pall Mall Gazette 
seemed at that time about as remote as that of the Moderator 
of the Free Church of Scotland receiving a cardinal's hat from 
the Pope of Rome. Nevertheless, no sooner had Mr. Glad- 
stone been seated in power than Mr. George Smith handed 
over the Pall Mall Gazette to his son-in-law, Mr. Henry Yates 
Thompson. Mr. Greenwood departed to found and edit the 
St. James' Gazette, and Mr. Morley became editor. Even then 
I never dreamed of going to the Pall Mall. Two other North- 
country editors and I, thinking that Mr. Morley was left 
in rather a difficulty by the secession of several of the Pall Mall 
staff, agreed to send up occasional contributions solely for the 
purpose of enabling Mr. Morley to get through the temporary 
difficulty in which he was placed by being suddenly summoned 
to edit a daily paper under such circumstances. Midsummer 
had hardly passed before Mr. Thompson came down to Dar- 
lington and offered me the assistant editorship. The proprietor 
of the A T orthem Echo kindly waived his right to my services in 
deference to the request of Mr. Morley. As a result I left the 
Northern Echo in September, 1880, and my presentiment was 
fulfilled. At the time when it was first impressed upon my 
mind, no living being probably anticipated the possibility of 
such a change occurring in the Pall Mall Gazette as would 
render it possible for me to become assistant editor, so that 
the presentiment could in no way have been due to any 
possible calculation of chances on my part. 
tu *.*.. The second presentiment to which I shall refer 

The Editor- . l , . , , „ ,, %r 7 , „, 

ship of the was also connected with the Pall Mall Gazette, 
"Gazette/" 1 anc ^ was ec l lia My clear and without any suggestion 
from outward circumstances. It was in October, 
1883. My wife and I were spending a brief holiday in the 
Isle of Wight, and I remember that the great troopers, which 
had just brought back Lord Wolseley's army from the first 
Egyptian campaign, were lying in the Solent when we crossed. 
One morning about noon we were walking in the drizzling 
rain round St. Catherine's Point. It was a miserable day, the 


ground slippery and the footpath here and there rather difficult 
to follow. Just as we were at about the ugliest part of our 
climb I felt distinctly, as it were, a voice within myself saying, 
You will have to look sharp and make ready, because by a 
certain date (which as near as I can recollect was the 16th of 
March next year) you will have sole charge of the Pall Mall 
Gazette. I was just a little startled and rather awed because, 
as Mr. Morley was then in full command and there was no 
expectation on his part of abandoning his post, the inference 
which I immediately drew was that he was going to die. So 
firmly was this impressed upon my mind that for two hours I 
did not like to speak about it to my wife. We took shelter 
for a time from the rain, but afterwards, on going home, I 
spoke on the subject which filled me with sadness, not without 
reluctance, and said to my wife, " Something has happened to 
me which has made a great impression upon my mind. When 
we were beside St. Catherine's Lighthouse I got into my head 
that Mr. Morley was going to die." " Nonsense," she said, 
" what made you think that? " " Only this," said I, " that I 
received an intimation as clear and unmistakable as that which 
I had when I was going to leave Darlington, that I had to 
look sharp and prepare for taking the sole charge of the Pall 
Mall Gazette on March 16th next. That is all, and I do not 
see how that is likely to happen unless Mr. Morley is going to 
die." " Nonsense," said my wife, " he is not going to die ; he 
is going to get into Parliament, that is what is going to 
happen." "Well," said I, "that may be. Whether he dies 
or whether he gets into Parliament, the one thing certain to 
me is that I shall have sole charge of the Pall Mall Gazette 
next year, and I am so convinced of that that when we return 
to London I shall make all my plans on the basis of that 
certainty." And so I did. I do not hedge and hesitate at 
burning my boats. As soon as I arrived at the Pall Mall 
Gazette office, I announced to Mr. Thompson, to Mr. Morley, 
and to Mr. Milner, who was then on the staff, that Mr. 
Morley was going to be in Parliament before March next year, 
for I need hardly say that I never mentioned my first sinister 
intimation. I told Mr. Morley and the others exactly what 
had happened, namely, that I had received notice to be ready 
to take sole charge of the Pall Mall Gazette by March 16th 
next. They shrugged their shoulders, and Mr. Morley scouted 
the idea. He said he had almost given up the idea of enter- 
ing Parliament, all preceding negotiations had fallen through, 
and he had come to the conclusion that he would stick to the 


Pall Mall. I said that he might come to what conclusion he 
liked, the fact remained that he was going to go. I remember 
having a talk at the time with Mr. Milner about it. I re- 
marked that the worst of people having premonitions is that 
they carefully hide up their prophecies until after the event, 
and then no one believed in them. " This time no one shall 
have the least doubt as to the fact that I have had my pre- 
monition well in advance of the fact. It is now October. I 
have told everybody whom it concerns whom I know. If it 
happens not to come to pass I will never have faith in my 
premonitions any more, and you may chaff me as much as you 
please as to the superstition. But if it turns up trumps, then 
please remember that I have played doubles or quits and 
won." Nobody at the office paid much attention to my 
vision, and a couple of months later Mr. Morley came to con- 
sult me as to some slight change which he proposed to make 
in the terms of his engagement which he was renewing for 
another year. As this change affected me slightly he came, 
with that courtesy and consideration which he always dis- 
played in his dealings with his staff, to ask whether I should 
have any objection to this alteration. As he was beginning to 
explain what this alteration would be I interrupted him. 
"Excuse me, Mr. Morley," said I, "when will this new 
arrangement come into effect ? " " In May, I think," was the 
reply. "Then," said I, "you do not need to discuss it with 
me. I shall have sole charge of the Pall Mall Gazette before 
that time. You will not be here then, you will be in Parlia- 
ment." " But," said Mr. Morley, " that is only your idea. 
What I want to know is whether you agree to the changes 
which I propose to make and which will somewhat affect your 
work in the office? " " But," I replied, " it is no use talking 
about that matter to me. You will not be here, and I shall be 
carrying on the Pall Mall Gazette) then what is the use of 
talking about it." Then Mr. Morley lifted his chin slightly in 
the air, and looking at me with somewhat natural disdain, he 
asked, " And, pray, do you mean to tell me that I have not to 
make a business arrangement because you have had a vision?" 
" Not at all," said I ; "you, of course, will make what business 
arrangements you please, — I cannot expect you to govern your 
conduct by my vision ;— but as I shall have charge of the paper 
it is no use discussing the question with me. You can make 
what arrangements you please so far as I am concerned. 
They are so much waste paper. I ask you nothing about the 
arrangement, because I know it will never come into effect so 


far as relates to my work on the paper." Finding that I was 
impracticable, Mr. Morley left and concluded his arrangement 
without consultation. One month later Mr. Ashton Dilke 
sickened with his fatal illness, and Mr. Morley was elected on 
February 24th, 1884, as Liberal candidate for Newcastle-on- 
Tyne. I remember that when the news came to Northumber- 
land Street, the first remark which Mr. Thompson made was, 
" Well, Stead's presentiment is coming right after all." I 
remember all through that contest, when the issue was for 
some time somewhat in doubt, feeling quite certain that if Mr. 
Morley did not get in he would die, or he would find some 
other constituency. I had no vision as to the success of his 
candidature at Newcastle. The one thing certain was that I 
was to have charge of the paper, and that he was to be out of 
it. When he was elected the question came as to what should 
be done ? The control of the paper passed almost entirely 
into my hands at once, and Mr. Morley would have left 
altogether on the day mentioned in my vision, had not Mr. 
Thompson kindly interfered to secure me a holiday before 
saddling me with the sole responsibility. Mr. Morley, there- 
fore, remained till midsummer ; but his connection with the 
paper was very slight, parliamentary duties, as he understood 
them, being incompatible with close day-to-day editing of an 
evening paper. Here, again, it could not possibly have been 
said that my premonition had any share in bringing about its 
realisation. It was not known by Mr. Ashton Dilke's most 
intimate friends in October that he would not be able to face 
another session. I did not even know that he was ill, and my 
vision, so far from being based on any calculation of Mr. 
Morley's chances of securing a seat in Parliament, was quite 
independent of all electoral changes. My vision, my message, 
my premonition, or whatever you please to call it, was strictly 
limited to one point, Mr. Morley only coming into it in- 
directly. I was to have charge of certain duties which 
necessitated his disappearance from Northumberland Street. 
Note also that my message did not say that I was to be editor 
of the Pall Mall Gazette on Mr. Morley's departure, nor was 
I ever in strict title editor of that paper. I edited it, but Mr. 
Yates Thompson was nominally editor-in-chief, nor did I ever 
admit that I was editor until I was in the dock at the Old 
Bailey, when it would have been cowardly to have seemed to 
evade the responsibility of a position which I practically 
occupied, although, as a matter of fact, the post was never 
really conferred upon me. 


The third instance which I will quote is even 
prisonment. more remarkable, and entirely precluded any 
possibility of my premonition having any influence 
whatever in bring about its realization. During what is known 
as the Armstrong trial it became evident from the judge's 
ruling that a conviction must necessarily follow. I was 
accused of having conspired to take Eliza Armstrong from her 
parents without their consent. My defence was that her 
mother had sold the child through a neighbour for immoral 
purposes. I never alleged that the father had consented, and 
the judge ruled with unmistakable emphasis that her mother's 
consent, even if proved, was not sufficient. Here I may 
interpolate a remark to the effect that if Mrs. Armstrong had 
been asked to produce her marriage lines the sheet anchor of 
the prosecution would have given way, for long after the trial 
it was discovered that from a point of law Mr. Armstrong had 
no legal rights over Eliza, as she was born out of wedlock. 
The council in the case, however, said we had no right to 
suggest this, however much we suspected it, unless we were 
prepared with evidence to justify the suggestion. As at that 
time we could not find the register of marriage at Somerset 
House the question was not put, and we were condemned 
largely on the false assumption that her father had legal rights 
as custodian of his daughter. And this, as it happened, was 
not the case. This, however, by the way. When the trial 
was drawing to a close, conviction being certain, the question 
was naturally discussed as to what the sentence would be. 
Many of my friends, including those actively engaged in the 
trial on both sides, were strongly of opinion that under the 
circumstances it was certain I should only be bound over in 
my own recognisance to come up for judgment when called for. 
The circumstances were almost unprecedented ; the judge, and 
the Attorney-General, who prosecuted, had in the strongest 
manner asserted that they recognised the excellence of the 
motives which had led me to take the course which had landed 
me in the dock. The Attorney- General himself was perfectly 
aware that his Government could never have passed the Crimi- 
nal Law Amendment Act — would never even have attempted 
to do so— but for what I had done. The jury had found me 
guilty, but strongly recommended me to mercy on the ground, 
as they said, that I had been deceived by my agent. The 
conviction was very general that no sentence of imprisonment 
would be inflicted. I was never a moment in doubt. I knew 
I was going to gaol from the moment Rebecca Jarrett broke 


down in the witness-box. This may be said to be nothing 
extraordinary ; but what was extraordinary was that I had the 
most absolute conviction that I was going to gaol for two 
months. I was told by those who considered themselves in a 
position to speak with authority that I was perfectly safe, that 
I should not be imprisoned, and that I should make prepara- 
tions to go abroad for a holiday as soon as the trial was over. 
To all such representations I always replied by asserting with 
the most implicit confidence that I was certain to go to gaol, 
and that my sentence would be two months. When, however, 
on November ioth, 1885, I stood in the dock to receive 
sentence, and received from the judge a sentence of three 
months, I was very considerably taken aback. I remember 
distinctly that I had to remember where I was in order to 
restrain the almost irresistible impulse to interrupt the judge 
and say, " I beg your pardon, my lord, you have made a 
mistake, the sentence ought to have been two months." But 
mark what followed. When I had been duly confined in 
Coldbath-on-the-Fields Prison, I looked at the little card 
which is fastened on the door of every cell giving the name of 
the prisoner, his offence, and the duration of his sentence. I 
found to my great relief that my presentiment had not been 
wrong after all. I had, it is true, been sentenced to three 
months' imprisonment, but the sentence was dated from the 
first day of the sessions. Our trial had been a very long one, 
and there had been other cases before it. The consequence 
was that the judge's sentence was as near two months as he 
possibly could have passed. My actual sojourn in gaol was 
two months and seven days. Had he sentenced me to two 
months' imprisonment I should only have been in gaol one 
month and seven days. 

These three presentiments were quite unmistakable, and 
were not in the least to be confounded with the ordinary un- 
easy forebodings which come and go like clouds in a summer 
sky. Of the premonitions which still remain unfulfilled I will 
say nothing, excepting that they govern my action, and more 
or less colour the whole of my life. No person can have had 
three or four premonitions such as those which I have described 
without feeling that such premonitions are the only certainties 
of the future. They will be fulfilled, no matter how incredible 
they may appear ; and amid the endless shifting circumstances 
of our life, these fixed points, towards which we are inevitably 
tending, help to give steadiness to a career, and a feeling of 
security to which the majority of men are strangers. 


Goethe, in his Autobiography, records the fact 
Grandfather. tnat his maternal grandfather had a premonition 
' of his election to the aldermanic dignity, not un- 
like that which I had about my promotion to the Pall Mall. 
Goethe writes : — 

"We knew well enough that he was often informed, in 
remarkable dreams, of things which were to happen. For 
example, he assured his wife, at a time when he was still one 
of the youngest magistrates, that at the very next vacancy he 
should be appointed to a seat on the board of aldermen. And 
when, very soon after, one of the aldermen was struck with a 
fatal stroke of apoplexy, he ordered that on the day when the 
choice was to be made by lot the house should be arranged 
and everything prepared to receive the guests coming to con- 
gratulate him on his elevation \ and, sure enough, it was for 
him that was drawn the golden ball which decides the choice 
of aldermen in Frankfort. The dream which foreshadowed 
to him this event he confided to his wife as follows : He found 
himself in session with his colleagues, and everything was 
going on as usual, when an alderman, the same who after- 
wards died, descended from his seat, came to my grandfather, 
politely begged him to take his place, and then left the cham- 
ber. Something similar happened on the provost's death. It 
was usual in such cases to make great haste to fill the vacancy, 
seeing that there was always ground to fear that the Emperor, 
who used to nominate the provost, would some day or other 
reassert his ancient privilege. On this particular occasion the 
sheriff received orders at midnight to call an extra session for 
the next morning. When in his rounds the officer reached 
my grandfather's house, he begged for another bit of candle 
to replace that which had just burned down in his lantern. 
1 Give him a whole candle,' said my grandfather to the woman ; 
1 it is for me he is taking all this trouble.' The event justified 
his words. He was actually chosen provost. And it is worthy 
of notice that the person who drew in his stead, having the 
third and last chance, the two silver balls were drawn first, 
and thus the golden one remained for him at the bottom of 
the bag." (Quoted by Owen, in " Footfalls on the Boundary 
of Another World.") 

ca in ^y &°°d friend, Captain Wiggins, one of the 

wiggtns' most Elizabethan of English mariners, is full of 

Warning. s j- or i es f visions which have occurred to him. 

Unfortunately at the moment of writing he is on his way to Brazil, 

so that I cannot obtain first-hand evidence as to some of the 


things with which he used to surprise his friends. One dream, 
however, which made a vivid impression on him may be cited, as 
it saved his canvas, if not his life. He was in the Mediterranean 
in a sailing vessel with a tranquil sea and a cloudless sky, with 
all sail set, when he dreamed he saw a white squall come up 
and strike the ship with a fury which portended its destruction. 
So vivid was the impression that he ran on deck, and, to the 
amazement of his officers and crew, ordered every inch of 
canvas to be furled. Believing that Captain Wiggins had 
suddenly gone mad, they nevertheless set about executing his 
orders. They had hardly finished their task when a white 
squall struck the ship with a fury which would have torn the 
canvas to ribbons, if indeed it had not capsized the vessel. 

Dreams which give timely notice of coming 
ingNvaming" accidents are, unfortunately, quite as often useless 
as they are efficacious for the protection of those 
to whom they are sent. Mr. Kendall, from whose psychical 
diary I have often quoted, sends me the following story of 
a dream which occurred, but which failed to save the dreamer's 
leg, although he struggled against it, and did his best to avert 
his evil fate : — 

11 Taking tea at a friend's house in the road where I live, I 
met with the Rev. Mr. Johnson, superintendent of the South 
Shields Circuit among the Primitive Methodists. He spoke 
with great confidence of the authenticity of a remarkable 
dream which he related. He used to reside at Shipley, near 
Bradford. His class-leader there had lost a leg, and he had 
heard direct from himself the circumstances under which the 
loss took place and the dream that accompanied. This class- 
leader was a blacksmith at a manufacturing mill which was 
driven by a water-wheel. He knew the wheel to be out of 
repair, when one night he dreamed that at the close of the 
day's work the manager detained him to repair it, that his foot 
slipped and became entangled between the two wheels, and 
was injured and afterwards amputated. In consequence he 
told his wife the dream in the morning, and made up his mind 
to be out of the way that evening, if he was wanted to repair 
the wheel. During the day the manager announced that the 
wheel must be repaired when the workpeople left that evening, 
but the blacksmith determined to make himself scarce before 
the hour arrived. He fled to a wood in the vicinity, and 
thought to hide himself there in its recesses. He came to a 
spot where some timber lay which belonged to the mill, and 
detected a lad stealing some pieces of wood from the heap. 


He pursued him in order to rescue the stolen property, became 
excited, and forgot all about his resolution. He found him- 
self ere he was aware of it back at the mill just as the work- 
people were being dismissed. He could not escape, and as 
he was principal smith he had to go upon the wheel, but he 
resolved to be very careful. In spite of his care, however, his 
foot slipped and got entangled between the two wheels just 
as he had dreamed. It was crushed so badly that he had 
to be carried to the Bradford Infirmary, where the leg was 
amputated above the knee. The premonitory dream was thus 
fulfilled throughout." 
" i know it ^ muca more painful story and far more de- 
wiii come tailed is contained in the fifth volume of the " Pro- 
true -" ceedings of the Psychical Research Society," on 
the authority of C. F. Fleet, of 26, Grosvenor Road, Gains- 
borough. He swears to the authenticity of the facts. The 
detailed story is full of the tragic fascination which attaches 
to the struggle of a brave man, repeatedly warned of his coming 
death, struggling in vain to avert the event which was to prove 
fatal, and ultimately perishing within the sight of those to 
whom he had revealed the vision. The story in brief is as 
follows : Mr. Fleet was third mate on the sailing ship Persian 
Empire, which left Adelaide for London in 1868. One of the 
crew, Cleary by name, dreamed before starting that on Christ- 
mas morning, as the Persian Empire was passing Cape Horn 
in a heavy gale, he was ordered, with the rest of his watch, to 
secure a boat hanging in davits over the side. He and another 
got into the boat, when a fearful sea broke over the ship, wash- 
ing them both out of the boat into the sea, where they were 
both drowned. The dream made such an impression upon 
him that he was most reluctant to join the ship, but he over- 
came his scruples and sailed. On Christmas Eve, when they 
were nearing Cape Horn, Cleary had a repetition of his dream, 
exact in all particulars. He uttered a terrible cry, and kept 
muttering, " I know it will come true." On Christmas Day, 
exactly as he had foreseen, Cleary and the rest of the watch 
were ordered to secure a boat hanging in the davits. Cleary 
flatly refused. He said he refused because he knew he would 
be drowned, that all the circumstances of his dream had come 
true up to that moment, and if he went into that boat he 
would die. He was taken below to the captain, and his refusal 
to discharge duty was entered in the log. Then the chief 
officer, Douglas, took the pen to sign his name. Cleary sud- 
denly looked at him and exclaimed, " I will go to my duty, 


for now I know the other man in my dream." He told 
Douglas, as they were on deck, of his dream. They got into 
the boat, and when they were all making tight a heavy sea 
struck the vessel with such force that the crew would have 
been washed overboard had they not clung to the mast. The 
boat was turned over, and Douglas and Geary were flung into 
the sea. They swam for a little time, and then went down. 
It was just three months after he had dreamed of it before 
leaving Adelaide. 

Here we have inexorable destiny fulfilling itself in spite of 
the struggles of its destined victim. It reminds me of a well- 
known Oriental story, which tells how a friend who was with 
Solomon saw the Angel of Death looking at him very intently. 
On learning from Solomon whom the strange visitor was, he 
felt very uncomfortable under his gaze, and asked Solomon 
to transport him on his magic carpet to Damascus. No sooner 
said than done. Then said the Angel of Death to Solomon, 
"The reason why I looked so intently at your friend was 
because I had orders to take him at Damascus, and, behold, 
I found him at Jerusalem. Now, therefore, that he has trans- 
ported himself thither I shall be able to obey my orders." 

Of the premonitions of history there are many, 
todcaVcasls. too familiar to need more than a passing allusion 
here. The leading case is, of course, the dream 
of Pilate's wife, which, if it had been attended to, might have 
averted the crucifixion. But there again foreknowledge was 
impotent against fate. Calphurnia, Caesar's wife, in like man- 
ner strove in vain to avert the doom x>( her lord. There is 
no story more trite than that which tells of the apparition 
which warned Brutus that Caesar would make Philippi his 
trysting-place. In these cases the dreams occurred to those 
closely associated with the doomed. One of the best known 
of dream presentiments in English history occurred to a person 
who had no connection with the victim. The assassination 
of Mr. Perceval in the Lobby of the House of Commons was 
foreseen in the minutest detail by John Williams, a Cornish 
mine manager, eight or nine days before the assassination took 
place. Three times over he dreamed that he saw a small 
man, dressed in a blue coat and white waistcoat, enter the 
Lobby of the House of Commons, when immediately another 
person, dressed in a snuff-coloured coat, took a pistol from 
under his coat and shot the little man in his left breast. On 
asking who the sufferer was he was informed that it was Mr. 
Perceval, Chancellor of the Exchequer. He was so much 


impressed by the dream that he consulted his friends as to 
whether he should not go up to London and warn Mr. Per- 
ceval. Unfortunately they dissuaded him, and on May 13th 
the news arrived that Mr. Perceval had been killed on the 
1 ith. Some time afterwards, when he saw a picture of the 
scene of the assassination, it reproduced all the details of the 
thrice-dreamed vision. There does not seem to have been 
any connection between Mr. Williams and Mr. Perceval, nor 
does there seem to have been any reason why it should have 
been revealed to him rather than to any one else. 
The inner ^ ne Quakers, whether it is because they -allow 
Light of the their Unconscious Personality to have more say 
Quakers. m ^eir lives than others who do not practise 
quietism as a religion, or whether it be from any other cause, 
it is difficult to say, seem to have more than their fair share 
of premonitions. Every one remembers how George Fox saw 
a " waft " of death go out against Oliver Cromwell when he 
met him riding at Hampton Court the day before he was 
prostrated with his fatal illness. Fox was full of visions. He 
foresaw the expulsion of the " Rump," the restoration of 
Charles II., and the Fire of London. Stephen Grellet is 
another notable Friend who was constantly foreseeing things. 
He not only foresaw things himself, but his faculty seemed to 
bring him into contact with others who foresaw things ; and 
in his Life there is an excellent instance of a premonitory 
dream, told by Countess Tontschkoff three months before 
Napoleon's Invasion. The countess, whose husband was a 
general in the Russian army, dreamed that her father came 
to the room, having her only son by the hand, and, in a tone 
of great sadness, said, " All thy comforts are gone ; thy hus- 
band has fallen at Borodino." 

As her husband at that time was sleeping beside her she 
dismissed the matter as a mere dream. But when it was re- 
peated a second and a third time, she awoke her husband and 
asked him where Borodino was. She told him her dream, 
and they searched through the maps with the greatest care, 
but could not discover any such place. Three months later 
Napoleon entered Russia, and fought the bloody battle which 
opened the way to Moscow near the river Borodino, from which 
an obscure village takes its name. Her father announced her 
husband's death, having her son by the hand, in the exact 
terms that she had heard him say in her dream three months 
before. She instantly recognised the inn in which she was 
then staying as the place that she had seen in her dream. 


This array of facts, which are well accredited, 
Dr^mD?a?y. w °uld seem to show that in the book of Job Elihu 
was not far wrong when lie said, " In slumberings 
upon the bed God openeth the ears of men and sealeth their 
instruction." Or, to quote from an author who uses more 
modern dialect, it justifies Abercromby's remark that "the 
subject of dreaming appears to be worthy of careful investiga- 
tion, and there is much reason to believe that an extensive 
collection of authentic facts, carefully analysed, would unfold 
principles of very great interest in reference to the philosophy 
of the mental powers." (" Intellectual Powers," p. 224.) 

Of premonitions, especially of premonitions in dreams, it 
is easy to have too much. The best antidote for an excessive 
surfeit for such things is to note them down when they occur. 
When you have noted down 100 dreams, and find that one 
has come true, you may effectively destroy the superstitious 
dread that is apt to be engendered by stories such as the fore- 
going. It would be one excellent result of the publication of 
this volume if all those who are scared about dreams and fore- 
bodings would take the trouble to keep a dream diary, noting 
the dream and the fulfilment or falsification following. By 
these means they can not only confound sceptics, who accuse 
them of prophesying after the event, but what is much more 
important, they can most speedily rid themselves of the pre- 
posterous delusion that all dreams alike, whether they issue 
from the ivory gate or the gate of horn, are equally to be held 
in reverence. A quantitative estimate of the value of dreams is 
one of those things for which psychical science still sighs in vain. 

The subject of this chapter is one of strange fascination. 
Premonitions are distinct from dreams, although many times 
they are communicated in sleep. Whether in the sleeping or 
waking stage there are times when mortal men gain, as it 
were, chance glimpses behind the veil which conceals the 
future. Sometimes this premonition takes the shape of a deep 
indwelling consciousness, based not on reason or on obser- 
vation, that for us awaits some great work to be done, which 
we know but dimly, but which is, nevertheless, the one reality 
of life. 

" Souls destined to o'erleap the vulgar lot, 
And mould the world unto the scheme of God, 
Have a foreconsciousness of their high doom, 
As men are known to shiver at the heart 
When the cold shadow of some coming ill 
Creeps slowly o'er their spirits unawares. 
Hath good less power of prophecy than ill ? " 


It was this that sustained Moses in exile in the wilderness, and 
Cromwell, when, in the darkest hour of his country's fortunes, 
he resolved to face the dungeon and the scaffold rather than 
seek liberty and peace across the Atlantic. 

But the spirit of prophecy, " this inward feeling of the 
glorious end," which has been the sustaining element in most 
heroic lives, is but the highest form of a foreseeing gift which 
seems to be distributed haphazard among all sorts and con- 
ditions of men, and which quite as frequently foresees small 
things as great. Nothing is more extraordinary and, indeed, 
more perplexing than the odd freaks of the vaticinating spirit. 
Its exercise is often so fantastic and purposeless that it is not 
suprising practical men lose patience with it altogether. 
Mr Black- Among many odd premonitions brought under 
ham's Pre- my notice since the publication of " Real Ghost 
diction. Stor i es> » one f t he oddest was that told me by Mr. 
Blackham, the respected and energetic founder of the move- 
ment known as the Pleasant Sunday Afternoons. Mr. Black- 
ham, more than twenty years ago, was going along a road with 
his sister when they met a young man. Instantly Mr. Black- 
ham turned to his sister, and said : " I see that you will marry 
that young man, you will become as fat as a landlady, and you 
will have thirteen children." All of which was fulfilled to the 
letter. Here the chances against the fulfilment of the three- 
fold prediction were enormous. Mr. Blackham did not even 
know at the time whether his sister and the young man they 
met were on terms of friendship, much less affection, and he 
could not possibly have guessed the future rotundity of his 
sister's body or the abnormal size of her family. He simply 
seemed -to see the fact, and seeing it, mentioned it on the 
spot, as his sister, who is still living, can testify. The thirteen 
children are also en evidence. 

Purpose there seems to be none in those things, any more 
than there is purpose in the glimpse you obtain of a landscape 
through a gap in a wall, past which you are driving at full 

Some people have this gift of seeing in advance 
Dogcart? very much developed. There is, for instance, 

Miss X , of the Psychical Research Society, 

whose exploits in seeing a dogcart and its passengers half an 
hour before they really arrived, has taken its place as the 
classical illustration of this fantastic faculty of intermittent 
foresight. As the story is so well authenticated, and has be- 
come a leading case in the discussion, I reprint the passage in 


which it occurs from the " Proceedings of the Psychical 
Research Society." 

The narrative is by a friend of the recipient : — 

"About eight years ago (April, 1882), X. and I were stay- 
ing in a country house, in a neighbourhood quite strange to us 
both. One morning, soon after our arrival, we drove with a 
party of four or five others in a waggonette to the neighbouring 
town, and, on our return, as we came in sight of the house, 
X. remarked to our hostess, c You have very early visitors ; 
who are your friends ? ' 

" (I was sitting, says Miss X., either beside or immediately 
behind our host, who was driving, and what at first attracted 
my attention was the sight, as I believe, of fresh wheel marks.) 

" We all turned to find the cause of the question, but could 
see no one, and as we were still in view of the front door on 
which Miss X.'s eyes were fixed, we asked her what she could 
possibly be dreaming of. She then described to us, the more 
minutely that we all joined in absolute denial of the existence 
of anything at all, the appearance of a dog-cart standing at the 
door of the house with a white horse and two men, one of 
whom had got down and was talking to a terrier ; she even 
commented upon the dress of one of the gentlemen, who was 
wearing an ulster, she said, a detail which we certainly should 
not have supposed it possible for her to recognise at such a 
distance from the spot. As we drove up the drive X. drew 
attention to the fresh wheel marks, but here also we were all 
unable to see as she did, and when we arrived at the house 
and found no sign of cart and visitors, and on inquiry learned 
that no one had been near in our absence, we naturally treated 
the whole story as a mistake, caused by X.'s somewhat short 

" Shortly after she and I were in an upstairs room in the 
front of the house, when the sound of wheels was heard, and 
J went to the window to see what it might be. ' There's your 
dog-cart, after all ! ' I exclaimed ; for there before the door 
was the identical dog-cart as X. had described it, correct in 
every detail, one of the gentlemen — having got down to ring 
the bell — being at the moment engaged in playing with a small 
fox-terrier. The visitors were strangers to our friends — 
officers from the barracks near, who had driven over with an 
invitation to a ball. 

"C. having read over D.'s account, had added, 'This is 
substantially the same account as I heard from one of the 
party in the carriage.' Mr. Myers adds, ' I heard C, an old 


family servant, tell the story independently with the same 

"Both D. and I were surprised at her accurate knowledge 
of the story, which she had not learnt from us, but from 
another lady present on the occasion." (" Proceedings of the 
Psychical Research Society," Vol. VI. p. 374.) 

Here is a curious but apparently purposeless 

y!aJs S A S he V a e d n premonitory dream, sent me by the head mistress 

of a Board school in the north of England. It is 

the narrative of a dream which occurred to her aunt, from 

whose mouth she took down the story : — 

"In 1855 I was 'keeping school' at H. H., lodging with 
my aunt. 

" I was much troubled at that time by the approaching 
marriage of my sister; for we had been close companions, 
and I knew that marriage would involve separation. 

" One night, a week before her wedding, I dreamed that 
my sister was already married, and living in London, and that 
I had gone up on a visit to her. I went to the door of a 

house with two steps up to it, and inquired if Mrs. L 

lived there. 

" ' Yes,' said the woman who answered the door, i Mrs. 

L lives here, but she is not at home. Follow me and I'll 

show you where she is. I followed my guide through several 
streets, until we reached the foot of a flight of stone steps 
leading into a large building. ' My sister is not here,' I said 
with energy ; • this is a workhouse.' 

" ' No,' said the woman, ' it is not a workhouse, and your 
sister is here.' 

"To a porter standing within the portico she said, 'Show 
this person the ward where Mrs. L. is.' He conducted me up 
another broad flight of steps, along a long corridor, with 
numbered doors at each side of it. The door at the end of 
the corridor facing us was numbered 101. In this room I 
was told I should find Mrs. L. 

" In the bed immediately within the door was a young 

" ' That's not my sister,' I said, and was taken to the farthest 
corner of the ward. I got on to the bed indicated, and saw 
the face of my sister. 

" Crying ' Oh, my Polly, my Polly ; what have they brought 
you here for?' I awoke. My aunt, who heard the words, 
evidently thought I was going silly over my sister's marriage. 

" A week later, having gone home to be present at the 


wedding, I told my sister what I had dreamt. She said it 
was only a dream, but it had made her feel very unhappy. 

"In 1S62 I went to London for the first time (to the 
Exhibition), and my sister showed me the house in which she 
had lived, which was the same as I saw in my dream. She 
had previously told me that the rest of my dream had come 
true in every particular. For the year after her marriage, 
being ill, she was advised by her medical attendant to go (as 
a paying patient) into Guy's Hospital for the best treatment. 
She told me that my description of the place (as dreamed) 
was accurate in every particular, even to the number of the 
door of her ward, the young woman who lay just inside the 
door, and the position of her own bed at the far end of the 

This was purposeless enough, as apparently purposeless as 
the fall of a meteor from the sky. People were willing to 
admit that meteors might fall if they were hurled, like Jove's 
thunderbolts, to execute vengeance on the evil doer \ but to 
fall a propos de rien — that was another matter. Still science 
does not refuse to believe in meteors, merely because their 
advent on this earth's crust is not linked on in any definite 
manner to the affairs of mortal men. Neither is it sensible to 
refuse to recognise the facts of foreseeing, because the thing 
foreseen was not worth seeing when it occurred, let alone 
seeing it before it happened. 

The Rev. Alexander Stewart, LL.D., F.S.A., 
by a if Dr?am d etc > Nether Lochaber, sends me the following 
instance of a profitable premonition : — 

"It was in the winter of 1S53 that my brother-in-law, Mr. 
Kenneth Morrison, came on a visit to us here at the Manse 
of Nether Lochaber. Mr. Morrison was at that time chief 
officer of the steamship City of Manchester, of the Inman line, 
one of the ocean 'greyhounds' of her day, sailing between 
Liverpool and Philadelphia. 

" In my service here, at the time of Mr. Morrison's visit, 
was a native of Lochaber, Angus MacMaster by name, an 
active, intelligent man, of about thirty years of age, a most 
useful man, a capital shot, an expert angler, and one of the 
best violinists in the West Highlands. No great wonder, 
therefore, that Morrison took a liking for Angus, and that the 
end of it was that Morrison invited Angus to join him on 
board the City of Manchester, where, it was arranged, he 
should act as one of the steerage stewards, and, at the same 
time, as Mr. Morrison's valet. To this Angus very willingly 


agreed, and so it was that when Mr. Morrison's leave of 
absence expired, he and Angus joined the City of Manchester 
at Liverpool. 

"Within a twelvemonth afterwards, Mr. Morrison wrote to 
say that he was about to be promoted to the command of the 
new Inman Steamship City of Glasgoiv — at that time, of her 
class and kind, the finest ship afloat — and that having got a 
few weeks' holiday, he was coming down to visit his friends 
in Lochaber, bringing Angus MacMaster along with him, for 
he had proved so good and faithful a servant that he was 
resolved not to part with him. 

"Sooner than was expected, and when his leave had only 
extended to some twenty days, Captain Morrison was sum- 
moned to Liverpool to take charge of his ship, which had 
already booked her full complement of passengers, and taken 
in most of her cargo, and only required some little putting to 
rights, which had better be done under her commander's 
supervision, before she sailed on her maiden trip to Phila- 
delphia. 'I must be off the day after to-morrow,' said 
Morrison, as he handed the letter to me across the table. 
1 Please send for Angus,' he continued, ' I wish him to come 
at once, that we may be ready to start by Wednesday morn- 
ing.' This was at the breakfast table on a Monday morning ; 
and that same evening Angus, summoned by a special 
messenger from the glen in which he was staying with his 
friends, arrived at the Manse, but in so grave and cheerless a 
mood that I noticed it at once, and wondered what could be 
the matter with him. Taking him into a private room, I said, 
' Angus, Captain Morrison leaves the day after to-morrow. 
You had better get his things packed at once. And, by the 
way, what a lucky fellow you are ! If you did so well on the 
City of Manchester, you will in a year or two make quite a 
fortune in the City of Glasgow' To my astonishment Angus 
replied, ' I am not going in the City of Glasgow — at least, not 
on this voyage — and I wish you could persuade Captain 
Morrison — the best and kindest master ever man had — not 
to go either.' 'Not going? What in the world do you mean, 
Angus ? ' was my very natural exclamation of surprise. ' Well, 
sir,' said Angus (the reader will please understand that our 
talk was in Gaelic). ' Well, sir,' said Angus, ' You must not 
be angry with me if I tell you that on the last three nights 
my father, who has been dead nine years, as you know, has 
appeared to me and warned me not to go on this voyage, for 
that it will prove disastrous. Whether in dream or waking 


vision of the night, I cannot say; but I saw him, sir, as 
distinctly as I now see you j clothed exactly as I remember 
him in life ; and he stood by my bedside, and with up-lifted 
hand and warning linger, and with a most solemn and earnest 
expression of countenance, he said, " Angus, my beloved son, 
don't go on this voyage. It will not be a prosperous one." 
On three nights running has my father appeared to me in this 
form, and with the same words of warning; and although 
much against my will, I have made up my mind that in the 
face of such warning, thrice repeated, it would be wrong in 
me to go on this voyage. It does not become me to do it, 
but I wish yon, sir, would tell Captain Morrison what I have 
now told you ; and persuade him if possible to make the best 
excuse he can, and on no account to go on this voyage in the 
City of Glasgow' I said all I could, of course, and when 
Captain Morrison was told of it, he, too, said all he could to 
shake Angus from his resolution ; but all in vain. And so it 
was that Morrison left without him; poor Angus actually 
weeping as he bade his master good-bye. 

" Early in March of that year, the City of Glasgow, with a 
valuable cargo and upwards of five hundred passengers on 
board, sailed under Morrison's command for Philadelphia ; 
and all that was good and prosperous was confidently pre- 
dicted of the voyage of so fine a ship under charge of so 
capable a commander. When sufficient time had expired, and 
there was still no word of the ship's arrival at Philadelphia, 
Angus came to enquire if we had heard anything about her. 
I could only reply that there was as yet no word of her, but 
that the owners, in reply to my inquiries, were confident of 
her safety — their theory being that something had gone wrong 
with her engines, and that she was probably proceeding under 
sail. ' Pray God it may be so ! ' said Angus, with the tears 
in his eyes ; and then in his own emphatic language — ach 
s'eagal ham, aon chuid dhuibhse na dhomhsa nach tig fios na 
forfhais oiree gu brath — (but great is my fear that neither to 
you, sir, nor to me shall word of her safety, or message from 
her at all ever arrive). And it was even so : from the day 
she left the Mersey until this day no word of the City of 
Glasgow has ever been heard. It was the opinion of those 
best able to offer a probable conjecture at the time, that she 
must have come into contact with an iceberg, and instantly 
gone down with all on board. 

"I may add that Angus was a Catholic, and that Father 
Macdonald, his priest, told me shortly afterwards that Angus, 


before my messenger calling him to the Manse could have 
reached him, had communicated the thrice-repeated dream or 
vision to him in confession, and precisely in the same terms 
he used in describing it to me. When no hope of the safety 
of the City of Glasgow could any longer be entertained, Angus 
emigrated to Australia, whence after the lapse of several years, 
he wrote me to say that he was well and doing well. Whether 
he is "still in life, or gone over to the majority, I do not know." 

This, however, is exceptional. 

Another story, which was sent me by my old 

der's Dre a a n m friend the housekeeper of the Hon. Auberon 

of his Drown- Hubert's Highland retreat on the shores of Loch 

Awe, is an awful tale of destiny, the premonition 

of which only renders it more tragic. 

" They were all sitting round the fire one winter night each 
relating his best storys. They had all told a story of the most 
wonderfull things he had heard or seen in the Ghost line, but 
Martin Barraw from Uist who sat silently lestening to all 

Come, Martin, said the man of the house are you not going 
to tell a story I am sure you know many 

Well yes said Martin. I know some and there is one 
strange one, running in my mind all this night, that I have 
never told to anyone yet, but I think I must tell it tonight. 

Oh yes do Martin cried all present 

Well said Martin you all I am sure remember the night of 
the fatal boat accident at Portroch feny, when Murdoch 
McLane, big David the Gamekeeper, and Donald McRae, 
the ferryman were drownd and I was the only one saved of 
the four 

Yes we do that Martin, remember it well, said the good 
man, that was the night the Taybrige was blowen down, it 
was a Sunday night the 28th of Decr/79. 

Yes you are right that was the very night. Well you know 
Murdoch and I were Salmon watching down the other side 
of the Loch that winter. Well one night about the middle 
of November we were sitting by the side of Altanlarich, it 
would be about midnight, we had sat for some time without 
speaking I thought Murdoch was asleep and I was very nearly 
so to when suddently Murdoch sprung to his feet with a jump 
that brought me to mine in a second 

Goodness what is wrong with you said I looking round 
in every direction to see what startled him but could see 

O dear dear what a horrid dream I have had said he A 


dream said I. My I thought you had seen a ghost or some- 
thing by the spring you gave 

Well you would spring to if you could and you drowning. 
Then he told me that he thought it was the 28th of Dec. and 
there was such a storm he had never seen anything like it, in 
his life before, We were crossing the loch at the ferry said 
he. We had the big white boat and four oars on her. Big 
David the keeper Donald the ferryman you and I. And man 
but it was awful, the boat right up on end at times every 
wave washing over us and filling the boat more and more, 
and no way of bailing her, because no one could let go his 
oar, you and I were on the weather side, and Big David and 
Donald on the other, they of course had the worst of it, we 
got on untell we were near the other side, the waves were 
getting bigger and the boat getting heavier, we were going to 
run for the creek, when she was struck by a huge wave that 
filled her up to the seats and sent David & Donald on their 
backs, they lost their oars, and the nixt wave came right over 
her and down she went. The other two never were seen, you 
and I came up and tryed to swim to the shore, you got near 
enough to catch a rope that was throwen you, but I could not 
get through the tremendous waves and was Just going down 
when I awoke with such a start. 

My what a frightful dream said I. I should not like to 
have such a dream although I do not believe in dreams or 
Ghosts or these things it was the rain falling on your face 
did it 

Well maybe it was said he but all the same I could see he 
was thinking a good deal about it all night, although I tryed 
to laugh him out of it. W T ell time passed untell about the 
beining of Dec. there was heavy rain Murdoch went home to 
see his wife and family as all the rivers were flooded and there 
was no need of watching. He was on his way back to his 
work on the evening of the nixt day, when he got to the ferry, 
it was raining blowing like to blow the breeks of a Hieland 
man as they say, Dear me Murdoch, said Donald the ferryman 
you surely don't mean to go out to-night. 

It is very stormy said Murdoch if you would be so kind as 
come over for me at six oclock in the morning I would go 
home again I must be down passed the Governor's before he 
gets up you know. 

Oh I'll do that for you Murdoch said Donald. So Murdoch 
went home again that night, and nixt morning by six o'clock 
he was at the ferry again. Well done, Donald. You are a 


man of your word said he. As he seen what he thought was 
Donald on the peir waiting him with his boat along side, — the 
morning was calm and fair though pretty dark, he thought it 
strange Donald did not answer him, but hurrying down the 
peir was about to step into the boat, when he felt someone 
strike him a violent blow on the ear with the open hand, 
looking sharply round he was astonished to find no one near, 
but as he thought as he turned round he had seen a dark 
shadow disappear in the distance. 

God be with us, said he turning to Donald what was that, 
he was horror struck to see a most hideous Object in what he 
had taken to be Donald, glaring at him with eyes of fire. 
God have mercy on my soul, said he, as he turned to run, but 
he had no sooner done so then he was seized by a Grasp of 
iron and pressed down towards the boat, then began a struggle 
for life, he wrestled and struggled with all his strength and you 
know he was a very strong man, but lie could do nothing in 
the iron Grasp of his foe, and that foe a mere shadow, he 
was surely and steadly forced towards the boat, he was being 
forced over the side of the peir and into the boat through 
which he could see the waves rolling quite clearly, it was a 
mere shadow also 

Oh God help me he cried from the depth of his heart as he 
gave himself up for lost. Suddenty as from some unseen 
power the grasp that held him ceased and Murdoch fell back 
upon the peir unconscious. 

How long he lay he could not say, but it was Donald 
throwing water in his face that brought him round, they went 
into the Hotel where the people were Just getting up, and he 
got a glass of Brandy to steady his nerves, and after a short 
time they started and Murdoch got back to his work some- 
time during the day, where he told me the whole affair. 

Poor Murdoch was much changed after that, for the few 
day that he lived, you could easily see the thing was pressing 
upon his mind a good deal. 

I need not tell you of the boat accident you all know that 
well enough already, how Murdoch's dream became true even 
to the very letter. Mr. Ross the Minister was preaching in 
the little church up here we went to put him across the Loch 
and it was while comming back that we were caught in the 
storm and the boat was swamped. Big David and Donald 
never were seen Murdoch and I tryed to swim to the shore 
but he only got a short way when he also sank and was 
drowned I got near enough to catch a rope that they threw 


out to me and they pulled me in although I was Just about 
dead two " 

There are many cases of this unavailing warning. Mr. T. 
A. Hamilton, of Ryedale Terrace, Maxwelltown, Dumfries, 
writes : — 

11 Thirty years ago I had the misfortune to lose my right eye 
under peculiar circumstances, and the night previous to the 
day on which it happened my sister dreamt that such had 
happened under precisely the same circumstances to which it 
did, and related her dream to the household before it had 
occurred. The distance between the scene of the accident 
and the house in which she slept was eight miles. 

One of the most interesting cases of premo- 
Betting Man nitions occurring in a dream is that which I have 

^rted"" rece i ve d from the Rev. Mr. Champness, who is 

very well known in the Wesleyan denomination, 

and whose reputation for sterling philanthropy and fervent 

evangelical Christianity is much wider than his denomination. 

Here is the story, as Mr. Champness sends it me : — 

" When reading the Ghost Number of the Review of Reviews, 
especially that which relates to doubles in dreams, I was re- 
minded of something which happened to myself. Some years 
ago, when working as an Evangelist, it was arranged that I 
should conduct a Mission in a town which 1 had never visited 
before, and where, so far as I remember, I did not know a 
single person, though I ought to say I was very much in- 
terested in what I had heard about the place, and had been 
led to think with some anxiety about the Mission. It would 
appear that on the Saturday night preceding the Mission a 
man in the town dreamed that he was standing opposite the 
chapel where the Mission was to be held, and that while he 
was standing there watching the people leave the chapel, a 
minister, whom he had never seen before, came up to him and 
spoke to him with great earnestness about religious matters. 
He was so much impressed by the dream that he awoke his 
wife, and told her how excited he was. On the Sunday morn- 
ing he went to the chapel, and greatly to his astonishment, 
when I came into the pulpit he saw that it was the man whom 
he had seen in his dream. I need not say that he was very 
much impressed, and took notice of everything that the 
preacher said and did. When he got home he reminded his 
wife of the dream he had had, and said, 'The man I saw in 
my dream is the preacher this morning, and preaches again to- 
night.' This interested his wife so much that she went to 


chapel with him in the evening. He attended on Monday 
and Tuesday evenings. On the Tuesday evening after the 
service he waited outside the chapel. To his great surprise, 
when I came out of the chapel I walked straight up to him, 
and spoke to him energetically, just as he had seen on the 
Saturday night. The whole thing was gone over again in 
reality, just as it had been done in the vision. On the Wed- 
nesday evening he was there again, and I remonstrated with 
those who had not yielded to the claims of Jesus Christ. I 
pushed them very hard, and was led to say, without premedi- 
tation, 'What hinders you? Why do you not yield yourself 
to Christ ? Have you something on a horse ? ' Strange to 
say, there was a race to be run next day, and he had backed 
the favourite, and stood to win 8 to i. As he said afterwards, 
' I could not lug a racehorse to the penitent form.' After the 
service, he went straight to the man with whom he had made 
the bet, and said, 'That bet's off/ which the man was very 
glad, as he expected to lose the bet. Sure enough, when the 
race was run the one that had been backed did win, but he 
had given up any intention of winning money in that way, and 
that night decided to become a Christian. He has since then 
died, and I have good hope of seeing him in the country 
where we may perhaps understand these things better than we 
do now." 

The same kind of dream, foreshadowing something to 
happen in connection with public worship, is sent me by an 
old lady in Yorkshire, who vouches for its accuracy : — 

" When young, and staying in the town of W., I was much 
troubled for a long time by spiritual doubts, so much so that 
sleep became an impossibility. 

" One morning, while lying awake with closed eyes, between 
two and three o'clock, I became conscious of a bright light in 
the room. Opening my eyes, I saw at the foot of my bed a 
very beautiful woman, shrouded from head to foot in a veil of 
light, a lovely smile on her face. 

"She held in her hand a Bible, and fixing her shining eyes 
on me, said, in soft, silvery, angelic tones : — 

" ' Because of thine unbelief hast thou brought darkness 
into thy soul. Hope thou in God, for thou shalt yet praise 
Him ! ' 

" I closed my eyes for awe, and when I ventured to look up 
the vision had disappeared. 

" The spiritual darkness continued. 

" Three weeks afterwards, at the same hour as before, as I 


lay awake, the same beautiful vision appeared again, and the 
same angel voice said : — 

" ' Take to thyself the shield of faith, the sword of the spirit, 
and the helmet of salvation.' Then, after a moment's pause, 
it repeated, very impressively, — 

" ' But above all lay hold 
On faith's victorious shield.' 

"I closed my eyes as before, and the vision had fled when 
I re-opened them. 

11 The week following, on the Sabbath, I stood at the house 
door, strangely undecided as to what place of worship to go to 
that morning, although I had all my life attended the services 
of the Wesleyan Methodists. 

u My companion, now dead, noticing my unusual indecision, 
recommended a chapel near at hand, which was a favourite 
with her; but I could not feel that that was the right place. 
Passing along the street, hesitating and undecided still, we 
came to the door of a church which I never attended. A 
sudden impulse drew me into it. Singularly enough the 
clergyman gave out as his text the very passage repeated by 
the angel at her second visit ; and at the conclusion of the 
sermon, the hymn was sung containing the quoted couplet : — 

"'But above all lay hold 

On faith's victorious shield.' " 

A lady in Yorkshire, who seems to be more 
Viskm^omes ca P aD l e of analysing her sensations than most per- 
sons, sends me the following account of her gift : — 

" I can give one or two instances in which I think I can say 
I have possessed this faculty. I may premise that it is entirely 
above and beyond my own control, and that I cannot com- 
mand it at will, also that I have only been able to exercise it 
in connection with my own affairs. For some time before the 
power awakens (if I may so speak) I feel very restless, ner- 
vous, and irritable, then the future event flashes into my mind 
with the vividness of lightning, and gradually fades away 
again, leaving me in the depths of low spirits, which continue 
for several days. The events unfolded to me are always in the 
future, some are yet awaiting fulfilment. I will give two which 
came to pass in a comparatively short time : — 

"In the year 1883 my husband was engaged in a law suit, 
about the success of which he was particularly anxious. The 
trial was to begin on Monday, and as we lived near the assize 
town he was to leave for it that morning. I had been feeling 


very anxious about it also, and went to church the Sunday 
before much troubled in mind. Suddenly, during the singing 
of the psalms, I saw the whole matter arrange itself, and heard 
the verdict given in my husband's favour. I told him this 
when we reached home, and though he laughed at me for my 
credulity, still I believe my words comforted him. He went 
away next morning, and in due course got his verdict. 

" We were settled in a house in the Midlands, when by a 
remarkable chain of circumstances, a small place in the north 
of England was offered us to buy. The price asked, however, 
was far too high for us to entertain any idea of it, and we 
wrote to decline it. Nevertheless I said to my husband, ' I 
know we shall go there, and that So-and-So will offer you some 
agency business which you will accept.' 

"'Pooh! Pooh!' he said, 'that is not at all likely. All 
So-and-So's arrangements are made.' 

" But notwithstanding, in six months time we had bought 
the house, and in about two years the agency business had 
been offered to my husband." 



" ' A strange coincidence,' to use a phrase 
By which such things are settled nowadays." — Byron. 

IT is said that every family has a skeleton in its cupboard. 
It would be equally true to say that every family has a 
ghost in its records. Sometimes it is a ghost of the living, 
sometimes of the dead ; but there are few who, if they inquire 
among their relatives, will not find one or more instances of 
apparitions, which, however small their evidential credentials, 
are implicitly accepted as genuine by those who witnessed 
them. In taking the Census of Hallucinations I made inquiry 
of an old schoolfellow of mine, who, after I came to Wimble- 
don, was minister of the Congregational Church in that 
suburb. He subsequently removed to Portsmouth, where I 
found him with his father one morning, on the occasion of the 
laying of the foundation-stone of the new Sunday School 
On mentioning the subject of the Census of Ghosts, the Rev. 
Mr. Talbot, senior, mentioned a very remarkable apparition 
which, unlike most apparitions, appeared in time to save the 
life of its owner. 

Howa The Rev. Mr. Talbot, who is now, as he has 

Double saved been for fifteen years, at Wooburn, Bucks, the 

a Life * father of my late pastor. He gave me the follow- 
ing account of the apparition:— "My mother had an extra- 
ordinary power of foreseeing and also of seeing visions. Of 
her premonitions and dreams I could give you many instances ; 
but as that is not the point at present, I will give you the 
narrative of her other faculty, that of seeing spiritual or 
phantasmal forms which were not visible to others. We were 
sitting at tea one evening when my mother suddenly exclaimed, 
1 Dear me, Mrs. Lister is coming up the path, with her hand- 
kerchief to her eyes as if crying, on her way to the door. 
What can have brought her out at this time ? There seems to 
be something the matter with her head. I will go to the 
door and let her in.' So saying, my mother arose and went to- 


the front door, where she firmly expected to find Mrs. Lister. 
None of the rest of us had seen Mrs. Lister come up the 
path, but as our attention might have been occupied in another 
direction we did not think anything of it. To my mother's 
astonishment, when she reached the door Mrs. Lister was not 
visible. She came back into the room much disturbed. 
' There is something the matter with Mrs. Lister,' she said. 
1 1 am certain there is. Yoke the horse and we will drive over 
at once to the Lister's house — which stood about one mile 
from our place — and see what is the matter. My father, 
knowing from of old that mother had reason for what she said, 
yoked the horse and drove off with my mother as rapidly as 
possible to Lister's house. When they arrived there they 
knocked at the door ; there was no answer. Opening the 
door they found no one downstairs. My mother then went to 
Mrs. Lister's bedroom and found the unfortunate lady, ap- 
parently breathing her last, lying in a pool of blood. Her 
husband, in a fit of insanity, had severely beaten her and left 
her for dead, and then went and drowned himself in a 
pond. My father immediately went off for a doctor, who 
was able to stitch up Mrs. Lister's worst wounds and arrest the 
bleeding. In the end Mrs. Lister recovered, owing her life 
entirely to the fortunate circumstance that at the moment of 
losing consciousness she had apparently been able to project a 
visual phantasm of herself before the window of our tea-room. 
She was a friend of my mother's, and no doubt in her dire 
extremity had longed for her company. This longing in Mrs. 
Lister, in some way unknown to us, probably produced the 
appearance which startled my mother and led to her prompt 
appearance on the scene of the tragedy." 

This story was told me by Mr. Talbot, who was then a boy, 
seated at the table at which his mother witnessed the apparition, 
and was regarded by him as absolutely true. Evidence in sup- 
port of it now will be somewhat difficult to get, as almost all 
the witnesses have passed over to the majority, but I have no 
reason to doubt the truth of the story. 

The story of Mrs. Lister's double appearing to 
Sng°Heip? Mrs - Talbot when in imminent peril of death, how- 
' ever it may be scouted by the sceptics, is at least 
entirely in accord with many other narratives of the kind. 

A member of the Psychical Research Society in Southport 
sends me the following account of an apparition of a severely 
wounded man, which bears considerable resemblance to Mr. 
Talbot's, although its evidential value is nothing like so good. 


Its importance rests solely in the fact that the apparition ap- 
peared as the result, not of death, but of a very serious injury 
which might have had fatal consequences : — ■ 

"A Scotch waitress in my employ, whilst laying the cloth for 
dinner one day, was startled by perceiving her father's face 
looking at her through the window. She rushed out of the 
room and opened the front door, expecting to see him. 
Greatly surprised at finding no trace of him, after carefully 
searching the front garden, and looking up and down the road, 
she came in, and sitting down in the hall nearly fainted with 
fright. On inquiring for particulars she told me she had 
distinctly seen her father's face, with a distressed expression 
upon it, looking earnestly at her. She seemed much 
troubled, and felt sure something was wrong. A few days after 
this vision a letter came, saying that her father (a Scotch game- 
keeper) had been thrown from a dog-cart and nearly killed. 
She left my employ to go and nurse him." 

Here is another story that is sent me by a correspondent 
in Belsize Park Gardens, who vouches for the bona fides of 
the lady on whose authority he tells the tale : — - 


"October 17M, 1891. 

"Some years ago, a lady named L. B. was staying with re- 
lations at Beckenham, her husband being away at a shooting 
party in Essex. On a certain afternoon, when she had, as she 
says, no especial reason for her husband being recalled to her 
mind, she was somewhat surprised, on looking out of her bed- 
room window, to see him, as she imagined, entering the front 
garden gate. Wondering what could have been the cause of 
the unexpected arrival, she exclaimed to her sister-in-law, 
' Why, there's Tom ! ' and went downstairs thinking to meet 
him entering the house. He was nowhere to be seen. Not 
long afterwards there arrived the news that her husband had 
been shot accidentally and considerably injured. Directly 
they met she related to him her curious vision, and on com- 
paring notes it was discovered that it had certainly taken place 
more or less at the same hour as the accident, the husband 
declaring that as he fainted away his wife was most distinctly 
present in his thoughts. There was, unfortunately, no means 
of exactly fixing the hour, but there was no doubt at the time 
that the two occurrences — viz. the hallucination and the 
accident — must have anyhow taken place within a short time 
of one another, if not simultaneously." 

Here we have an incident not unlike that which occurred to 



Mrs. Talbot — the unexpected apparition of the phantasm or dual 
body of one who at the moment was in imminent danger of death. 
Tales of this class are somewhat rare, but when they do occur 
they indicate conclusively that there is no connection between 
the apparition of the wraith and the disease of the person to 
whom it belongs. 

The next narrative should rather have come 
T summ°o U n b a s under the head of premonitions, but as the pre- 
P»est to their m0 nition in this case was accompanied by an 
apparition, I include it in the present chapter. 
It is, in its way, even more remarkable than the story of my 
schoolfellow. It is more recent, it is prophetic, and the ap- 
paritions of two living men appeared together to predict the 
day of their death. The narrative rests on the excellent 
authority of the Rev. Father Fleming, the hard-working 
Catholic priest of Slindon, in Sussex. I heard it from one of 
his parishioners who is a friend of mine, and on applying to 
Father Fleming he was kind enough to write out the following 
account of his strange experience, for the truth of every word 
of which he is prepared to vouch. In all the wide range of 
spectral literature I know no story that is quite like this : — 

" I was spending my usual vacation in Dublin in the year 
1868, I may add very pleasantly, since I was staying at the 
house of an old friend of my father's, and whilst there was 
treated with the attention which is claimed by an honoured 
guest, and with as much kindness and heartiness as if I were 
a member of his family. I was perfectly comfortable, per- 
fectly at home. As to my professional engagements, I was 
free for the whole time of my holiday, and could not in any 
manner admit a scruple or doubt as to the manner in which 
my work was done in my absence, for a fully qualified and 
earnest clergyman was supplying for me. Perhaps this pre- 
amble is necessary to show that my mind was at rest, and 
that nothing in the ordinary course of events would have 
recalled me so suddenly and abruptly to the scene of my 
labours at Woolwich. I had about a week of my unexpired 
leave of absence yet to run when what I am about to relate 
occurred to me. No comment or explanation is offered. It 
is simply a narrative. 

" I had retired to rest at night, my mind perfectly at rest, and 
slept, as young men do in robust health, until about four o'clock 
in the morning. It appeared to me about that hour that I was 
conscious of a knock at the door. Thinking it to be the man- 
servant, who was accustomed to call me in the morning, I at 


once said, ' Come in.' To my surprise there appeared at the 
foot of the bed two figures, one a man of medium height, fair 
and well fleshed, the other tall, dark, and spare, both dressed 
as artisans belonging to Woolwich Arsenal. On asking them 
what they wanted, the shorter man replied, ' My name is 

C s. I belong to Woolwich. I died on of , 

and you must attend me.' 

" Probably the novelty of the situation and feelings atten- 
dant upon it, prevented me from noticing that he had used 
the past tense. The reply which I received to my question 

from the other man was like in form, ' My name is M 11, I 

belong to Woolwich, I died on of , and you must 

attend me.' I then remarked that the past tense had been 
used, and cried out, ' Stop ! You said " died," and the day 
you mentioned has not come yet ! ' at which they both smiled, 
and added, ' We know this very well ; it was done to fix your 
attention, but ' — and they seemed to say very earnestly and in 
a marked manner — 'you must attend us !' at which they dis- 
appeared, leaving me awe-stricken, surprised and thoroughly 
aroused from sleep. Whether what I narrate was seen during 
sleep, or when wholly awake, I do not pretend to say. It 
appeared to me that I was perfectly awake and perfectly con- 
scious. Of this I had no doubt at the time, and I can scarcely 
summon up a doubt as to what I heard and saw whilst I am 
telling it. As I had lighted my lamp, I rose, dressed, and, 
seating myself at a table in the room, read and thought, and, 
I need hardly say, from time to time prayed, fervently, until 
day came. When I was called in the morning, I sent a 
message to the lady of the house to say that I should not go 
to the University Chapel to say Mass that morning, and should 
■be present at the usual family breakfast at nine. 

" On entering the dining-room my hostess very kindly inquired 
after my health, naturally surmising that I had omitted Mass 
from illness, or at least want of rest and consequent indisposi- 
tion. I merely answered that I had not slept well, and that 
there was something weighing heavily upon my mind which 
obliged me to return at once to Woolwich. After the usual 
regrets and leave-takings, I started by the mid-day boat for 
England. As the first date mentioned by my visitors gave me 
time, I travelled by easy stages, and spent more than two days 
on the road, although I could not remain in Dublin after I had 
received what appeared to me then, and appears to me still, 
■as a solemn warning. 

" On my arrival at Woolwich, as may be easily imagined, my 


brother clergy were very puzzled at my sudden and unlooked- 
for return, and concluded that I had lost my reckoning, think- 
ing that I had to resume my duties a week earlier than I was 
expected to do. The other assistant priest was waiting for my 
return to start on his vacation — and he did so the very evening 
of my return. Scarcely, however, had he left the town when 
the first of my visitors sent in a request for me to go at once 
to attend him. You may, perhaps, imagine my feelings at that 
moment. I am sure you cannot realize them as I do even 
now after the lapse of so many years. Well, I lost no time. 
I had, in truth, been prepared, except hat and umbrella, from 
the first hour after my return. I went to consult the books in 
which all the sick-calls were entered and to speak to our aged, 
respected sacristan who kept them. He remarked at once, 
1 You do not know this man, father ; his children come to our 
school, but he is, or has always been, considered as a Protestant.' 
Expressing my surprise, less at the fact than at his statement, I 
hurried to the bedside of the sufferer. After the first few words 
of introduction were over he said, ' I sent for you, father, on 
Friday morning early, and they told me that you were away 
from home, but that you were expected back in a few days, 
and I said I would wait.' I found the sick man had been 
stricken down by inflammation of the lungs, and that the 
doctor gave no hope of his recovery, yet that he would prob- 
ably linger some days. I applied myself very earnestly indeed 
to prepare the poor man for death. Again the next day, and 
every day until he departed this life, did I visit him, and spent 
not minutes, but hours, by his bedside. 

" A few days after the first summons came the second. The 
man had previously been a stranger to me, but I recognised 
him by his name and appearance. As I sat by his bedside he 
told me, as the former had already done, that he had sent 
for me, had been told that I was absent, and had declared 
that he would wait for me. Thus far their cases were alike. 
In each case there was a great wrong to be undone, a con- 
science to be set right that had erred and erred deeply — and 
not merely that, it is probable, from the circumstances of 
their lives, that it was necessary that their spiritual adviser 
should have been solemnly warned. They made their peace 
with God, and I have seldom assisted at a deathbed and felt 
greater consolation than I did in each and both of these. 
Even now, after the lapse of many years, I cannot help feel- 
ing that I received a very solemn warning in Dublin, and am 
not far wrong in calling it, the Shadow of Death. 

«T. O. Fleming," 


The familiar story told by Air. Dale Owen, but somewhat 
discredited by the severe scrutineers of the Psychical Re- 
search Society, of the rescue of the crew of a derelict ship 
by the timely visit of the Double, who wrote, " Steer nor'- 
west " on the slate in the cabin of another ship, is the best of 
its kind. 

Perhaps the most remarkable and most authentic 
Double dl- g^ost of 1 89 1 is the ghost which appeared at 
mands its Newcastle, for the purpose of demanding its photo- 

Portraits ! gmphs , The stQry wag firgt told me by the j ate 

secretary of the Bradford Association of Helpers, Mr. Snowden 
Ward. I subsequently obtained it first hand from the man 
who saw the ghost. Running from the central railway station 
at Newcastle, a broad, busy thoroughfare connects Neville 
Street with Grainger Street. On one side stands St. John's 
Church, on the other the Savings Bank, and a little past the 
Savings Bank, proceeding from the station, stand the shops 
and offices of Grainger Street. It is a comparatively new 
street, and is quite one of the last places in the world where 
one would expect to find visitants of a ghostly nature. Never- 
theless, it was in one of the places of business in this busy and 
bustling thoroughfare that the ghost in question appeared, for 
that it did appear there can be no manner of doubt. Even it 
all the other cases published in this Christmas Number were 
discarded as lacking in evidential value, this would of itself 
suffice to establish the fact that apparitions appear, for the cir- 
cumstances are such as to preclude the adoption of any of the 
usual hypotheses to account for the apparition. I called upon 
Mr. Dickinson at 43, Grainger Street, on October 14th, ex- 
amined his premises, was shown the entry in his book, and 
cross-examined himself and Miss Simon, the lady clerk, who 
figures in the subsequent narrative. It will probably be best 
to reprint the statement, which originally appeared in the Prac- 
tical Photographer, merely filling in names and supplementing 
it here and there with a little more detail : — 

"On Saturday, the 3rd of January this year," said Mr. Dickin- 
son, " I arrived at my place of business, 43, Grainger Street, 
Newcastle, a few minutes before 8 a.m. The outer door is 
protected by an iron gate in which is a smaller lock-up gate, 
through which I passed into the premises. Having opened 
the office and turned the gas on at meter, and lit the gas fire, I 
stood at the office counter for a few minutes waiting for the 
lad who takes down the iron gate at the front door." 

Mr. Dickinson told me that the reason he was down so 


early was because the lad who usually brought the keys was 
ill, and he had come earlier than usual on that account. The 
place is lit with electric light. Mr. Dickinson does not re- 
member turning on the light, although, as it was only eight 
o'clock on the third of January, he must have done so in order 
to read the entry in the book. The accompanying photograph 
shows the general outlines of the office. Mr. Dickinson stood 
in front of the window behind the counter shown in the pho- 

Before the lad came, however, a gentleman called to inquire 
if his photographs were finished. 

He was a stranger to him. He came into the room and 
came up to the counter in the ordinary way. He was wearing 
a hat and overcoat, and there was nothing unusual about his 
appearance excepting that he did not seem very well. He 
said to me, " Are my photographs ready ? " I said, " Who 
are you ? We are not opened yet." He said his name was 
Thompson. I asked him if he had the receipt (which usually 
accompanies any inquiry), and he replied that he had no 
receipt, but his photograph was taken on December 6th, and 
that the prints were promised to be sent to him before this 

I then asked him whether it was a cash order or a subscrip- 
tion one. The reason for asking this is because we have two 
books in which orders are entered. He said he had paid for 
them at the time ; his name would therefore be in the cash 
orders. Having got the date and his name, I referred to my 
book, and found the order as he stated. I read out to him 
the name and address, to which he replied, " That is right." 

Here is an exact copy of the entry in the order book : — 

7976. Sat., Dec. 6th t '90. 

Mr. J. S. Thompson, 
154, William Street, 

Hebburn Quay. 
6 cabinets. js. pd. 

The above was written in pencil ; on the margin was written 
in ink, " Dec. 16," which, Mr. Dickinson explained, is the date 
on which the negative came to the office, named and num- 
bered, and ready to go to the printers. 

Below this again was written in ink. 

5th. — 3 Cabinets gratis, neg. broken, letter sent asking to 

In my book I found a date given, on which the negative 


was ready to be put into the printer's hands ; and the date 
being seventeen days previous, I had no hesitation in saying, 
" Well, if you call later on you will get some ; " and I called 
his attention to the fact that it was very earl)', and explained 
to him that the employees would not be at work until nine 
o'clock, and if he could call after that time he would be cer- 
tain to get some of his photographs. He said, " I have been 
travelling all night, and cannot call again." 

Some short time before I had been at a hydropathic estab- 
lishment in Yorkshire, and had travelled home at night. When 
he said he had been travelling all night, I remembered my 
own journey, and I thought perhaps he has been to some 
hydropathic establishment to benefit his health ; and, finding 
that he was getting no better, he had come back, perhaps to 
die, for he looked wretchedly ill. He spoke weariedly and 
rather impatiently, when he said he could not call again. 

With that, he turned abruptly and went out. Anxious to 
retain his good-will, I shouted after him, " Can I post what 
may be done ? " but I got no answer. I turned once more to 
the book, looked at the number, and on a slip of paper wrote 
No. 7976, Thompson, Post. (This I wrote with pen and ink, 
and have the paper yet.) 

Mr. Dickinson said he had handed over this piece of paper 
to a representative of the Psychical Research Society who had 
lost it. It was, however, a mere memorandum written on the 
back of a traveller's card. 

At nine o'clock, when Miss Simon (clerk and reception 
room attendant, a bright, intelligent young lady) came, I 
handed the slip of paper to her, and asked her to have it 
attended to, telling her that the man had called for them, and 
seemed much disappointed that he had not received them be- 
fore. Miss Simon, with considerable surprise, exclaimed, 
" Why, an old man called about these photographs yesterday 
(Friday), and I told him they could not be ready this week 
owing to the bad weather, and that we were nearly three weeks 
behind with our work." I suggested that it was quite time 
Mr. Thompson's were ready, and inquired who was printing 
the order. I was told that it was not in print, and, pointing 
to a pile of negatives, Miss Simon said, " Thompson's is 
amongst that lot, and they have been waiting quite a fort- 

I asked to be shown the negative, and about half an hour 
later Miss S. called me, saying, "This is Thompson's nega- 


I took it in my hands and looked at it carefully, remarking, 
"Yes, that is it; that is the chap who called this morning." 

Mr. Dickinson said he had no difficulty in recognising it, 
although the man wore a hat and top coat when he called, 
whereas in the portrait, as shown in the accompnying picture, 
which is taken from the original negative, the sitter wore 
neither hat nor top coat. 

Miss Simon again referred to the fact that she had told the 
man who had called on the previous day that none were done, 
or could be done that week. 

" Well," I said, " put this to one side, and I will see to it 
myself on Monday, and endeavour to hurry it forward." 

On the Monday (January 5th) I was in one of the printing 
rooms, and about 10.30 a.m., having one or two printing 
frames empty, I thought of Thompson's negative, and accord- 
ingly went down to the office and asked Miss S. for it. " Oh, 
yes/' she replied, " and here are a few more equally urgent ; 
you may take them as well." I said, "That cannot be, as I 
have only two or three frames at liberty " (she had about 
twenty negatives in her hand, holding them out to me) ; " give 
me Thompson's first, and let me get my mind at rest about it." 
To which she answered, " His is amongst this lot, I will have 
to pick it out." (Each negative was in a paper bag.) 

I offered to help her, and she commenced at one end of the 
batch and I at the other ; and before we got halfway through 
I came across one which I knew was very urgent, and turned 
away to look up the date of taking it when crash ! went part 
of the negatives on the floor. This accident seemed so serious 
that I was almost afraid to pick up the fallen negatives, but on 
doing so, one by one, I was greatly relieved to find only one 
was broken ; but, judge of my horror, to find that that one was 
Thompson's ! 

I muttered. something (not loud, but deep), and would fain 
have relieved my feelings, but the presence of ladies restrained 
me (this accident being witnessed also by my head printer, 
Miss L.). 

I could not honestly blame Miss Simon for this — each 
thought the other was holding the lot, and between us we let 
them drop. 

The negative was broken in two, right across the forehead 
of figure. I put the pieces carefully away, and taking out a 
memo, form, wrote to Mr. Thompson, asking him to kindly 
give another sitting, and offering to recoup him for his trouble 
and loss of time. This letter was posted five minutes after 


the negative was broken, and the affair was forgotten by me 
for the time. 

However, on Friday, January 9th, I was in the printing- 
room upstairs, when I was signalled by the whistle which 
communicates with the office, and Miss Simon asked if I could 
go down, as the gentleman had called about the negative. I 
asked " What negative ? " " Well," she replied, " the one we 

" Mr. Thompson's," I answered. "I am very busy and 
cannot come down, but you know the terms I offered him ; 
send him up to be taken at once." 

" But he is dead ! " said Miss Simon. 

11 Dead !" I exclaimed, and without another word I hastened 
down the stairs to my office. Here I saw an elderly gentle- 
man, who seemed in great trouble. 

"Surely," said I to him, "you don't mean to say that this 
man is dead ? " 

" It is only too true," he replied. 

"Well, it must have been dreadfully sudden," I said 
sympathetically, " because I saw him only last Saturday." 

The old gentleman shook his head sadly, and said, " You 
are mistaken, for he died last Saturday." 

" Nay," I returned, " I am not mistaken, for I recognised 
him by the negative." 

However, the father (for such was his relationship to my 
sitter) persisted in saying I was mistaken, and that it was he 
who called on the Friday and not his son, and, he said, " I 
saw that young lady (pointing to Miss Simon), and she told me 
the photographs would not be ready that week." 

"That is quite right," said Miss Simon, "but Mr. Dickin- 
son also saw a gentleman on the Saturday morning, and when 
I showed Mr. Dickinson the negative, he said, ' Yes, that's the 
man who called.' I told Mr. Dickinson then of your having 
called on the Friday." 

Still Mr. Thompson, sen., seemed to think that we were 
wrong, and the many questions and cross-questions I put to 
him only served to confirm him in his opinion that I had got 
mixed ; but this he said — no one was authorised to call, nor 
had they any friend or relative who would know of the por- 
traits being ordered, neither was there any one likely to imper- 
sonate the man who had sat for his portrait. 

I had no further interview with the old gentleman until a 
w r eek later, when he was much calmer in his appearance and 
conversation, and at this interview he told me that his son 


died on Saturday, January 3rd, at about 2.30 p.m. ; he also 
stated that at the time I saw him (the sitter) he was uncon- 
scious, and remained so up to the time of his death. I have 
not had any explanation of this mysterious visit up to present 
date, February 26th, 189 1. 

It is curious to me that I have no recollection of hearing 
the man come upstairs, or of him going down. In appearance 
he was pale and careworn, and looked as though he had been 
very ill. This thought occurred to me when he said he had 
been travelling all night. 

James Dickinson." 

43, Grainger Street, Newcastle." 

Miss Simon, in further conversation with me, stated that 
when the father called on Friday night and asked for the 
photographs he came late, at least after the electric light was 
lit. He seemed disappointed, but made no further remark 
when he was told they were not ready. Mr. Dickinson stated 
that in conversation with the father afterwards, he told him 
that his son, on the Friday, had been delirious and had cried 
out for his photographs so frequently that they had tried to 
get them, and that was why he had called on Friday night. 
Hebburn is on the south side of the Tyne, about four miles 
from Newcastle}. The father was absolutely certain that it was 
physically impossible for his son to have left the house. He 
did not leave it. They knew the end was approaching, and 
he and his wife were in constant attendance at the death-bed. 
He also stated that it was impossible, from the position of the 
bedroom, for him to have left the house, even if he had been 
able to get out of bed without their hearing him. As a matter 
of fact, he did not get out of bed, and at the moment when his 
Double was talking to Mr. Dickinson in Grainger Street, he 
was lying unconscious at Hebburn. 

It is impossible to explain this on the theory that Mr. 
Dickinson visualised the impression left upon his mind by 
Mr. Thompson, for Mr. Dickinson had never seen Mr. 
Thompson in his life. Neither could he have given apparent 
objectivity to a photograph which he might possibly have seen, 
although Mr. Dickinson asserts that he had never seen the 
photograph until it was brought him on the Saturday morning. 
If he had done so by any chance he would not have fitted his 
man with a top-coat and hat. It cannot therefore be regarded 
as a subjective hallucination ; besides, the evidence afforded 
by the looking up of the book, the making an entry of what 


occurred, and the conversation which took place, in which the 
visitor mentioned facts which were not present in Mr. Dickin- 
son's own mind, but which he verified there and then by 
looking up his books, bring it as near certainty as it is possible 
to arrive in a case such as this. Whoever the visitor was, it 
was not a subjective hallucination on the part of Mr. Dickin- 
son. It is equally impossible to believe that it was the actual 
Mr. Thompson, because he was at that moment within six 
hours of death, and the evidence of his father is that his son 
at that moment was physically incapable of getting out of bed, 
and that he was actually lying unconscious before their eyes at 
Hebburn at the moment when his apparition was talking to 
Mr. Dickinson at Newcastle. The only other hypothesis that 
can be brought forward is that some one personated Thomp- 
son. Against this we have the fact that Mr. Dickinson, who 
had never seen Thompson, recognised him immediately as 
soon as he saw the negative of his portrait. Further, if any 
one had come from Hebburn on behalf of Thompson, he would 
not have asserted that he was Thompson himself, knowing, as 
he would, that he was speaking to a photographer, who, if the 
photographs had been ready, would at once have compared 
the photographs with the person standing before him, when 
the attempted personation would at once have been detected. 
Besides, no one was likely to have been so anxious about the 
photographs as to come up to Newcastle an hour before the 
studio opened in order to get them. We may turn it which 
way we please, there is no hypothesis which will fit the facts 
except the assumption that there is such a thing as a Thought 
Body, capable of locomotion and speech, which can transfer 
itself wherever it pleases, clothing itself with whatever clothes 
it desires to wear, which are phantasmal like itself. Short of 
that hypothesis, I do not see any explanation possible ; and 
yet, if we admit that hypothesis, what an immense vista of 
possibilities is opened up to our view ! 



"There is something in that ancient superstition 
Which, erring as it is, our fancy loves." — Scott. 

MANY of the apparitions that are reported are of phan- 
tasms that appear in fulfilment of a promise made to 
survivors during life. Of this class I came, in the course 
of my census, upon a very remarkable case. 

Among my acquaintances is an Irish lady, the widow of an 
official who held a responsible position in the Dublin Post 
Office. She is Celt to her backbone, with all the qualities of 
her race. After her husband's death she contracted an unfor- 
tunate marriage — which really was no marriage legally — with 
an engineer of remarkable character and no small native 
talent. He, however, did not add to his other qualities the 
saving virtues of principle and honesty. Owing to these 
defects my friend woke up one fine morning to find that her 
new husband had been married previously, and that his wife 
was still living. On making this discovery she left her partner 
and came to London, where I met her. She is a woman of 
very strong character, and of some considerable, although 
irregular, ability. She has many superstitions, and her dreams 
were something wonderful to hear. After she had been in 
London two years her bigamist lover found out where she 
was, and leaving his home in Italy followed her to London. 
There was no doubt as to the sincerity of his attachment to 
the woman whom he had betrayed, and the scenes which took 
place between them were painful, and at one time threatened 
to have a very tragic ending. Fortunately, although she never 
ceased to cherish a very passionate affection for her lover, she 
refused to resume her old relations with him, and after many 
stormy scenes he departed for Italy, loading her with re- 
proaches. Some months after his departure she came to me 
and told me she was afraid something had happened to him. 
She had heard him calling her outside her window, and shortly 
afterwards saw him quite distinctly in her room. She was 


much upset about it. I pooh-poohed the story, and put it 
down to a hallucination caused by the revival of the stormy 
and painful scenes of the parting. Shortly afterwards she 
received news from Italy that her late husband, if we may so 
call him, had died about the same time she heard him calling 
her by her maiden name under her window in East London. 

I only learnt when the above was passing through the press 
that the unfortunate man, whose phantasm appeared to my 
friend, died suddenly either by his own hand or by accident. 
On leaving London he drank on steadily, hardly being sober 
for a single day. After a prolonged period of intoxication he 
went out of the house, and was subsequently found dead, 
either having thrown himself, or fallen over, a considerable 
height, at the foot of which he was found dead. 

I asked Mrs. G. F. to write out for me, as clearly as she 
could remember it after the lapse of two years, exactly what 
she saw and heard. Here is her report : — 
_. „ " In the end of the summer of 1886 it happened 

The Promise. it _ . x , ir ri . 

one morning that Irwin and myself were awake 
at 5.30 a.m., and as we could not go asleep again, we lay talking 
of our future possible happiness and present troubles. We 
were at the time sleeping in Room No. 46, Hotel Washington, 
overlooking the Bay of Naples. We agreed that nothing 
would force us to separate in this life — neither poverty nor 
persecution from his family, nor any other thing on earth. (I 
believed myself his wife then. ) We each agreed that we would 
die together rather than separate. We spoke a great deal that 
morning about our views of what was or was not likely to be 
the condition of souls after death, and whether it was likely 
that spirits could communicate, by any transmitted feeling or 
apparition, the fact that they had died to their surviving friends. 
Finally, we made a solemn promise to each other that which- 
ever of us died first would appear to the other after death, if such 
was permitted. Well, after the fact of his being already married 
came to light, we parted. I left him, and he followed me to 
London on December '87. During his stay here I once asked if 
he had ever thought of or forgotten since about our agreement 
as to who should die first appealing to the other ; and he said, 
1 Oh, Georgie, you do not need to remind me ; my spirit is a 
part of yours, and can never be separated nor dissolved even 
through all eternity ; no t not even though you treat me as you 
do ; even though you became the wife of another you cannot 
divorce our spirits. And whenever my spirit leaves this earth 
I will appear to you.' AVell, in the beginning of August '88 he 


left England for Naples ; his last words were that I would 
never again see him ; I should see him, but not alive, for he 
would put an end to his life and heart-break. After that he 
never wrote to me ; still I did not altogether think he would 
kill himself. On the 22nd or 23rd of the following November 
('88), I posted a note to him at Sarno post-office. No reply 
came, and I thought it might be he was not at Sarno, or was 
sick, or travelling, so did not call at post-office, and so never 
dreamed of his being dead. 
T4 „ ,_, .. "Time went on, and nothing occurred till Nov- 

Its Fulalment. . .,',.- °_ f _ n 

ember 27th (or I should say 28th, for it occurred 
at 12.30, or between 12 and 1 a.m., I forget the exact time). 
It was just at that period when I used to sit up night 
after night till 1, 2, and 3 o'clock a.m. at home doing the 
class books ; on this occasion I was sitting close to the fire,, 
with the table beside me, sorting cuttings. Looking up from 
papers my eyes chanced to fall on the door, which stood about 
a foot and a half open, and right inside ; but not so far in but 
that his clothes touched the edge of the door, stood Irwin ; he 
was dressed as I last had seen him — overcoat, tall hat, and his 
arms were down by his sides in his natural, usual way. He 
stood in his exact own perfectly upright attitude, and held his 
head and face up in a sort of dignified way, which he used 
generally to adopt on all occasions of importance or during a 
controversy or dispute. He had his face turned towards me, 
but his body, or breast rather, faced towards another direction, 
just as if at the same as the door. His face looked at me with 
a terribly meaning expression, very pale, and as if pained by 
being deprived of the power of speech or of local movements. 
I got a shocking fright, for I thought at first sight he was living, 
and had got in unknown to me to surprise me. I felt my 
heart jump with fright, and I said, ' Oh ! ' but before I had 
hardly finished the exclamation, his figure was fading away, 
and, horrible to relate, it faded in such a way that the flesh 
seemed to fade out of the clothes, or at all events the hat 
and coat were longer visible than the whole man. I turned 
white and cold, felt an awful dread ; I was too much afraid to- 
go near enough to shut the door when he had vanished. I 
was so shaken and confused, and half paralysed, I felt I could 
not even cry out ; but like as if something had a grip on my 
spirit, I feared to stir, and sat up all night, fearing to take my 
eyes off the door, not daring to go and shut it. Later on I 
got an umbrella and walked tremblingly, and pushed the door 
close without fastening it. I feared to touch it with my hand. 


I felt such a relief when I saw daylight and heard the landlady 
moving about. Now, though I was frightened, I did not for a 
moment think he was dead, nor did it enter my mind then 
about our agreement. I tried to shake off the nervousness, 
and quite thought it must be something in my sight caused by 
imagination, and nerves being overdone by sitting up so late 
for so many nights together. Still, I thought it dreadfully 
strange, it was so real. 

" Well, about three days passed, and then I was 
A c?ugh ts start l e d by hearing his voice outside my window, 
as plain as a voice could be, calling, * Georgie ! 
Are you there, Georgie ? ' I felt certain it was really him 
come back to England. I could not mistake his voice. I felt 
quite flurried, and ran out to the hall door, but no one in sight. 
I went back in, and felt rather upset and disappointed, for I 
would have been glad if it was him back again, and began to 
wish he really would turn up. I then thought to myself, ' Well, 
that was so queer. Oh, it must be Irwin, and perhaps he is 
just hiding in some hall door to see if I will go out and let 
him in, or what I will do.' So out I went again. This time I 
put my hat on, and ran along and peeped into hall doors where 
he might be hiding, but with no result. Later on that night I 
could have sworn I heard him cough twice right at the window, 
as if he did it to attract attention. Out I went again. No 
result. Well, to make a long story short, from that night till 
about nine weeks after that voice called to me, and coughed, 
and coughed, sometimes every night for a week, then three 
nights a week, then miss a night and call on two nights, miss 
three or four days, and keep calling me the whole night long, 
on and off, up till 12 midnight or later. One time it would be, 
1 Georgie ! It's me / Ah, Georgie ! ' Or, ' Georgie, are you 
in ? Will you speak to Irwin ? ' Then a long pause, and at 
the end of, say, ten minutes, a most strange, unearthly sigh, or 
a cough — a perfectly intentional, forced cough, other times 
nothing but, ' Ah, Georgie ! ' On one night there was a 
dreadful fog. He called me so plain, I got up and said, ' Oh, 
really! that man must be here; he must be lodging some- 
where near, as sure as life ; if he is not outside I must be 
going mad in my mind or imagination.' I went and stood 
outside the hall door steps in the thick black fog. No lights 
could be seen that night. I called out, ' Irwin ! Irwin ! here, 
come on, I know you're there, trying to humbug me, I saw you 
in town ; come on in, and don't be making a fool of yourself.' 
" Well, I declare to you, a voice that seemed within three 


yards of me, replied out of the fog, ' It's only Irwin* and a 
most awful, and great, and supernatural sort of sigh faded away 
in the distance. I went in, feeling quite unhinged and nervous, 
and could not sleep. After that night it was chiefly sighs and 
coughing, and it was kept up until one day, at the end of about 
nine weeks, my letter was returned marked, ' Signor O'Neill e 
morto,' together with a letter from the Consul to say he had 
died on November 28, 1888, the day he appeared to me on." 

On enquiring as to dates and verification, Mrs. F. 

The Question rpnlipH • 

of Dates. iC P uc ^ • 

" I don't know the hour of his death, but if you 
write to Mr. Turner, Vice-Consul, Naples, he can get it for 
you. He appeared to me at the hour I say; of course there 
is a difference of time between here and Naples. The strange 
part is that once I was informed of his death by human means 
(the letter), his spirit seemed to be satisfied, for no voice ever 
came again after ; it was as if he wanted to inform and make 
me know he had died, and as if he knew I had not been 
informed by human agency. I was so struck with the appari- 
tion of November 28th, that I made a note of the date at the 
time so as to tell him of it when next I wrote. My letter 
reached Sarno the day or day after he died. There is no 
possible doubt about the voice being his, for he had a peculiar 
and uncommon voice, one such as I never heard any exactly 
like, or like at all in any other person. And in life he used to 
call me through the window as he passed, so I would know 
who it was knocked at the door, and open it. When he said. 
l dh/' after death, it was so awfully sad and long drawn out, 
and as if expressing that now all was over and our separation 
and his being dead was all so very, very pitiful and unutter- 
able ; the sigh was so real, so almost solid, and discernible and 
unmistakable, till at the end it seemed to have such a super- 
natural, strange, awful dying-away sound, a sort of fading, 
retreating into distance sound, that gave the impression that it 
was not quite all spirit, but that the spirit had some sort of 
visible and half-material being or condition. This was espe- 
cially so the night of the fog, when the voice seemed nearer to 
me as I stood there, and as if it was able to come or stay 
nearer to me because there was a fog to hide its materialism. 
On the other occasions it seemed to keep at the same distance 
off on each occasion and about four times further than on that 
night, and always sounded as if at an elevation of about 10 ft. 
or 1 1 ft. from the ground, except the night of the fog, when it 
came down on a level with me as well as nearer. 

"Georgina F." 


The promise to appear was given and kept in the case of the 
apparition seen by Lord Brougham. 

Lord When we come to the question of the apparition 

Brougham's pure and simple, one of the best-known leading 
Testimony. cases j s t hat recorded by Lord Brougham, who was 
certainly one of the hardest-headed persons that ever lived, a 
Lord Chancellor, trained from his youth up to weigh evidence. 
The story is given as follows in the first volume of "Lord 
Brougham's Memoirs " : — 

" A most remarkable thing happened to me, so remarkable 
that I must tell the story from the beginning. After I left 

the High School I went with G , my most intimate friend, 

to attend the classes in the University. There was no divinity 
class, but we frequently in our walks discussed many grave 
subjects — among others, the immortality of the soul and a 
future state. This question, and the possibility of the dead 
appearing to the living, were subjects of much speculation, and 
we actually committed the folly of drawing up an agreement, 
written with our blood, to the effect that whichever of us died 
the first should appear to the other, and thus solve any doubts 
we had entertained of the 'life after death.' After we had 

finished our classes at the college, G went to India, 

having got an appointment there in the Civil Service. He 
seldom wrote to me, and after the lapse of a few years I had 
nearly forgotten his existence. . . . One day I had taken, 
as I have said, a warm bath ; and, while lying in it and en- 
joying the comfort of the heat, I turned my head round, 
looking towards the chair on which I had deposited my clothes, 

as I was about to get out of the bath. On the chair sat G , 

looking calmly at me. How I got out of the bath I know 
not ; but on recovering my senses I found myself sprawling on 
the floor. The apparition, or whatever it was that had taken 

the likeness of G , had disappeared. This vision had 

produced such a shock that I had no inclination to talk about 
it, or to speak about it even to Stewart, but the impression it 
made upon me was too vivid to be easily forgotten, and so 
strongly was I affected by it that I have here written down the 
whole history, with the date, December 19th, and all the 
particulars, as they are now fresh before me. No doubt I had 
fallen asleep, and that the appearance presented so distinctly 
before my eyes was a dream I cannot for a moment doubt ; 

yet for years I had had no communication with G , nor 

had there been anything to recall him to my recollection. 
Nothing had taken place concerning our Swedish travels con- 



nected with G , or with India, or with anything relating to 

him, or to any member of his family. I recollected quickly 
enough our old discussion, and the bargain we had made. I 

could not discharge from my mind the impression that G 

must have died, and that his appearance to me was to be 
received by me as a proof of a future state. This was on 
December 19th, 1799." 

In October, 1862, Lord Brougham added as a postscript: — 
" I have just been copying out from my journal the account 
of this strange dream. ' Certissima mortis imago ! ' And 
now to finish the story begun about sixty years since. Soon 
after my return to Edinburgh there arrived a letter from India 

announcing G 's death, and stating that he died on 

December 19th." 

Very many of the apparitions of this description 

Fulfilled a PP ear m connection with a promise made during 
lifetime to do so. A lady correspondent sends me 
the following narrative, which she declares she had from the 
sister of a student at the Royal Academy who was personally 
known to her. He told the story first to his mother, who is 
dead, so that all chance of verifying the story is impossible. 
It may be quoted, however, as a pendant to Lord Brougham's 
vision, and is much more remarkable than his, inasmuch as 
the phantom was seen by several persons at the same time : — 

" I think it was about the year 1856, as nearly as I can 
remember, that a party of young men, students of the Royal 
Academy, and some of them members also, used to meet in 
a certain room in London, so many evenings in the week, 
to smoke and chat, one of them the son of a colonel in the 
army long since dead. This only son kept yet a remnant, if 
no more, of the faith of his childhood, cherished in him by 
his widowed mother with jealous care, as he detailed to her 
from time to time fragments of the nightly discussions against 
the immortality of the soul. 

" On one particular evening the conversation drifted into 
theological matters — this young Academician taking up the 
positive side, and asserting his belief in a hereafter of weal or 
woe for all human life. 

"Two or three of the others endeavoured to 'put him 
down,' but he, maintaining his position quietly, provoked a 
suggestion, half in earnest and half in jest, from one of their 
number, that ' the first among them who should die, should 
appear to the rest of their assembly afterwards in that room 
at the usual hour of meeting.' The suggestion was received 


with jests and laughter by some, and with graver faces by- 
others — but at last each man solemnly entered into a pledge 
that if he were the first to die amongst them, he would, if 
permitted, return for a few brief seconds to this earth and 
appear to the rest to certify to the truth. 

" Before very long one young man's place was empty. No 
mention being made of the vow that they had taken, probably 
time enough had elapsed for it to have been more or less, for 
the present, forgotten. 

"The meetings continued. One evening when they were 
sitting smoking round the fire, one of the party uttered an 
exclamation, causing the rest to look up. Following the 
direction of his gaze, each man saw distinctly for himself a 
shadoivy figure, in the likeness of the only absent one of their 
number, distinctly facing them on the other side of the room. 
The eyes looked earnestly, with a yearning, sad expression in 
them, slowly upon each member there assembled, and then 
vanished as a rainbow fades out of existence from the evening 
sky. For a few seconds no one spoke, then the most con- 
firmed unbeliever among them tried to explain it all away, but 
his words fell flat, and no one echoed his sentiments ; and 

then the widow's son spoke. ' Poor is dead,' he said, 

'and has appeared to us according to his vow.' Then fol- 
lowed a comparison of their sensations during the visitation, 
and all agreed in stating that they felt a cold chill similar to 
the entrance of a winter fog at door or window of a room which 
has been warm, and when the appearance had faded from 
their view the cold breath also passed away. / think, but 
will not be positive on this, the son of the widow lady died 
long after this event, but how long or how short a time I never 
heard ; but the facts of the above story were told me by the 
sister of this young man. I also knew their mother well. She 
was of a gentle, placid disposition, by no means excitable or 
likely to credit any superstitious tales. Her son returned 
home on that memorable evening looking very white and 
subdued, and, sinking into a chair, he told her he should never 
doubt again the truths that she had taught him, and a little 
reluctantly he told her the above, bit by bit, as it were, as she 
drew it from him." 

Quite recently — in fact, in the June of 1891 — 

thataaiSSd!" the Rev> H * Chapman published in the Ushaw 

College Magazine a story, without giving genuine 

names, of an apparition which had sufficient truth about it 

to convert the writer to the Catholic faith. Mr. Chapman 


says that in telling the story persons and places are changed 
and details added, but the backbone of it is genuine in other 
particulars. The story, briefly told, is as follows : — Mr. Chap- 
man was at school in England ; he spent his holidays with his 
uncle, who was in the habit of receiving visitors from various 
friends, including, among others, a Catholic priest, whom he 
calls Reuben Crockford. Father Crockford had the peculiarity 
of clanging the garden gate. It was a tiresome gate to open 
and shut, and they always knew when Father Crockford came 
because he always gave the gate a vicious little kick with his 
heel after he had entered, so that it sent it with some force 
against the latch, making it rebound, and then closing again 
with another clang. This mode of gate-shutting was peculiar 
to Father Crockford, who always did it and was never mistaken. 
One time there was a discussion of the resurrection of the 
dead at his uncle's house. His uncle said the resurrection 
occurred too long a time ago — one wanted present evidence. 
"Now, if you came back from the dead and told me the 
Catholic religion is true, that would be evidence," he said. 
Father Crockford replied, " If I die first, and God permit me, 
I will come back and tell you, for I would do anything to see 
you converted to the faith." Three years after that conversa- 
tion Mr. Chapman was again spending his holidays with his 
uncle. One morning his uncle came down late to breakfast 
and announced that he had been dreaming all night that 
Father Crockford was coming that day. He ordered his room 
to be put ready, and he put off dinner a quarter of an hour in 
order to allow him more time to arrive. Mr. Chapman was 
reading a book in the study when his uncle went down to the 
gate to meet Father Crockford. Suddenly he heard a double 
clang, the clang of the gate that Father Crockford alone ever 
gave, and the invariable precursor of his visits. Thinking his 
uncle's presentiment had come true, he laid down his book 
and looked out of the window to catch the first glimpse of his 
visitor. As he did so he looked at his watch ; it was just ten 
minutes past five. He saw the good priest emerge from the 
bushes ; he was walking rather quickly, and carried his black 
bag, which he always brought with him. His uncle also saw 
him, called welcome to him, and shouted to him to stop until 
he came to him. Fie did not do so, but went up to the front 
door and looked in at the window. Mr. Chapman nodded 
and smiled but the priest took no notice of his salutation. 
The dog howled and fled away. Then he felt a curious cold 
wind at the roots of his hair, and he noticed that the priest's 


eyes looked somewhat as if they were gazing into eternity, and 
that his face was deathly pale. Again the dog gave a low 
howl, and the sound of a deep sigh at his ear made Mr. 
Chapman spring from his seat in an agony of terror. His 
uncle then came in and ordered the dinner bell to be rung, 
exclaiming in high glee, " I knew I was right. He has come." 
The dinner was served, but the priest did not come down ; 
the bell was rung again, and as he still did not come, they 
sent up to his room, when to their blank amazement they 
found that no one was there and the door was locked on the 
outside. The house was searched from cellar to garret, but 
he could not be found. Next morning his uncle handed Mr. 
Chapman a letter from the presbytery which informed him 
that the Rev. Reuben Crockford had died the previous day. 
The letter ran as follows : — 

11 He intended to have paid you a visit yesterday, and had 
got as far as the railway station when, being seized with 
sudden failure at the heart, he fell fainting on the platform 
and was carried in a dying state into the waiting-room. One 
of his brother priests was hastily summoned, who administered 
to him the consolation of our holy religion, and he also had 
the best available medical assistance. Unhappily, all efforts 
were useless, and he calmly expired at ten minutes past five, 
his last words being, ' John, there is a life to come.' " 

" What do you think of that ? w said his uncle. " I think,' 5 
said Mr. Chapman, " that the Catholic religion is true. Father 
Crockford told you he would come and tell you if it were 
true." Mr. Chapman joined the Catholic Church, and is now 
a priest, on account of the vision of the good priest whom he 
describes under the pseudonym of the Rev. Reuben Crock- 



"There is no people, rude or unlearned, among whom apparitions of the 
dead are not related and believed. This opinion, which prevails as far as 
human nature is diffused, could only become universal by its truth ; those that 
never heard of one another could not have agreed upon a tale which nothing 
but experience would make credible." — Johnson's " Rasselas." 

THE number of apparitions recorded at or about the mo- 
ment of death is so great that even when they are divided 
into three it is difficult to deal with them. They crop up on 
all sides. 

When I made my last visit to Edinburgh, I stayed at the 

house of Mr. M , a well-known jeweller in Princes Street. 

Mrs. M informed me that before her marriage she was in- 
formed of the death of her younger brother by an apparition. 
She saw him laid out as on a bier, with his face pale and dead, 
the body covered with a white shroud. He was a great athlete 
and an adventurous youth. He at that time was in India. 
For some time no confirmation of the uneasy forebodings 
occasioned by the vision occurred, but one morning when the 
minister approached the house to break ill news, they knew at 
once that their brother was dead. It was too true. Pie had 
ventured for a foolhardy wager to swim out under a waterfall, 
and had been drowned. 

During my stay in Edinburgh I visited the workhouse and 
got into conversation with the master. I learned that he also 
had had an experience of the same kind. Pie was officer on 
board a man-of-war on the China station. Steaming between 
Singapore and Hong Kong he saw the apparition of a relative 
on deck, and reported the same to the lieutenant the next 
morning. That officer recommended him to make a note of 
the date, which he did. On his arrival at Yokohama he re- 
ceived intelligence that the relative had died that same day on 
which he had seen the apparition. 


In my own family I have known of one case of 
A S Retum° y ' s a similar nature. My grand-aunt, a Northumbrian 
matron, sturdy and practical, and full of common 
sense and not given to hallucinations, was awakened one night 
by the presence of her son, whom she saw standing by her bed- 
side. He had started a few days before on his first voyage as 
an apprentice on board an Australian merchantman. She was 
intensely surprised to see him at her bedside, and turning to 
her husband she cried, " Christopher, wake up ; here is John 
come back ! " When Christopher rubbed open his drowsy 
eyes and looked for his son he was no longer to be seen. " But 
I saw him," said my grand-aunt. " I saw him quite clearly. 
He must have come back, and is playing some prank." There- 
upon the two got up, lit candles, and began a thorough search 
of the house. They found no one and were much disturbed, 
but comforted themselves with the thought that, finding them 
asleep, he had gone to some friend's or neighbour's until morn- 
ing. In the morning, however, every inquiry failed to bring 
to light any trace of their boy. Of course it might have been 
a dream, but the old lady was so certain that she had seen her 
boy that the day and hour of his appearance were noted. No 
news was heard of his ship, which made the voyage safely, and 
they waited with some anxiety for the mail from Australia, 
which in those days was much longer in transit than it is now. 
When, however, the letter arrived, with the Australian post- 
mark on it, it brought the news that on the night on which the 
boy had appeared at Blyth, in Northumberland, he had fallen 
from the rigging of the ship in the English Channel and had 
never been seen again. 

This autumn Mr. Worthington, of 324, Scots- 
^r^arition 5 wood Road, Newcastle, furnished me the following 
account of the apparition of a sea captain's death : — 
"Some years ago, my uncle, Captain Thos. Worthington, 
was away at sea. His wife was at the time living in Sunder- 
land, and one afternoon she came on a visit to Newcastle. 
After meeting my mother the two called to see another rela- 
tive — a Mrs. Hails, the caretaker of West Clayton Street 
Congregational Chapel, who was (and is still) living in a 
cottage behind, and which overlooks the chapel. Just before 
reaching Mrs. Hails's door my aunt said to mother, 'Why, 
there is our Tom ! ' pointing to the schoolroom. Mother, in 
surprise, says, ' Where ? ' ' Why, there ! Look ! he is in 
the school.' By this time Mrs. H. met them, and aunt re- 
peated to her what she saw, but Mrs. H. only laughed, and 


said, ' Nonsense ! because here are the keys of the place, and 
I am sure there is nobody there/ However, my aunt would 
not be dissuaded, and to convince her Mrs. H. opened the 
gate leading down the stairs, then opened the schoolroom door, 
and entered the schoolroom, lit a candle (it being rather dusk, 
being towards the back end of the year), but could see no one. 
A note was made of the date and hour ; and strange to say, in 
a few days, as soon as words could reach her, my aunt received 
a letter from the person in charge of the ship in which my 
uncle had sailed, informing her that her husband had fallen 
overboard, and was drowned, on that very day and hour on 
which my aunt had noticed the phantom which none but her- 
self could see." 

Some stories There are several stories of a similar kind re- 
from the sea. corded by the p syc hical Research Society. A 
curious one is a narrative (sent by Engineer Dunlop, of 
Bangkok, Siam) of an apparition seen " when the ship was 
under all plain sail off the pitch of Cape Horn," when the 
seaman who had started aloft to bend the fore-top-gallant, 
flung his arms round the top-gallant shrouds and held on with- 
out moving, till he was lowered on deck in the bight of a 
bowline. For as he " kept looking to the windward at the 
squall, suddenly in the midst of it he saw his sweetheart, 
dressed in white flowing robes, who came flying down towards 
him before the wind," and who, as it afterwards proved, had 
died in England at that very same time. 

Another seafaring story is communicated to a correspondent 
by Lord Charles Beresford, and by him sent to the Psychical 
Research Society : — 

"It was in the spring of 1864, whilst on board H.M.S. 
Racoon, between Gibraltar and Marseilles, that I went into my 
office on the main deck to get a pipe ; and as I opened the 
door I saw my father lying in his coffin as plainly as I could. 
It gave me an awful jerk, and I immediately told some of the 
fellows who were smoking just outside, the usual place between 
the guns, and I also told dear old Onslow, our chaplain. A 
few days after we arrived at Marseilles, and I heard of my 
father's death, and he had been buried that very day and at 
the time, half-past twelve in the day. I may add that at the 
time it was a bright, sunny day, and I had not been fretting 
about my father, as the latest news I had of him was that, 
although very ill, he was better. My dear old father and I 
were great chums, more so than is usual between a man of 
seventy-two and a boy of twenty, our respective ages then." 


Whatever may be the cause, there are more 
Scene e wiV stories of this kind told about sailors and soldiers 
n Miksoff 00 tnan aD0llt al1 otner classes of the community. Of 
the sailor stories, one of the best, concerning the 
apparition at the moment of death, with the clairvoyant 
accompaniment, is sent me by a Master of Arts in the North 
of Scotland, who has made it the subject of a carefully written 
and very interesting story, for the accuracy of which my 
correspondent vouches, as occurring many years ago to the 
person on whose authority the story is told. He is still living, 
and persists in the absolute accuracy of his most extraordinary 
narrative. It will be seen that there is not only in this case 
the phantasm of the unfortunate man who died, but also a 
vivid reproduction of the scene in which he perished, so that 
the person who saw it recognised, many weeks after, a total 
stranger as the person who was present at the hour of his 

" Thirteen years ago," said Captain S , " I was on board 

the C , homeward bound with cotton from Calcutta to 

Liverpool. On Tuesday, the 25th August, 1868, when in lat. 
33 4' S., long. 31 27' E., the sky darkened, and it was 
evident a storm was about to burst upon us ; the crew were 
sent aloft to furl the sails, and before we had completed the 
task a great gust of wind seized the half-slackened maintop- 
sail, and sent it fluttering into fragments. At the same moment 
the ship reeled nearly on her beam ends, and, above the 
howling of the gale, we heard a sudden cry of despair. I was 

horrified to see an apprentice, J P , sent whirling 

headlong from the masthead into the sea. Even yet I can see 
the look of agony stamped on his upturned face, and I can 
hear the very tones of his heartrending cry, ' Oh ! Lucy, Lucy,' 
as he disappeared for ever in the darkness below. 

" After the storm abated, the captain made a careful note 
of the exact time of the occurrence, the position of the ship, 
and the other particulars. He seemed struck at my mention 
of the exclamation I had overheard, falling from the poor 
fellow's lips as he clutched in vain at the yielding air. 

"'Ah,' he said, 'that must have been his sister, Lucy V., 
to whom he was greatly attached.' 

" I then produced his cap, which I had managed to seize as 
it fell, and which the captain locked up with the rest of his 
effects, remarking, as he did so, that no doubt his people 
would prize it as a last keepsake of their son. 

" The rest of the voyage passed without incident, and as 


soon as the ship arrived at Liverpool I made my way to the 
train which was to take me to Manchester. 

"I was walking idly along the platform when I saw the face 
of an old gentleman, who, with a young lady on his arm, was 
elbowing his way through the crowd. His resemblance to our 
lost mate was so striking that I stood and looked at him. The 
young lady's eyes happened suddenly to meet mine. Instantly 
she gave a violent start, uttered a low scream, and exclaiming, 
' Oh, look, there's the face of my dream ! ' stared at me as if 
fascinated. Her companion gently rallied her, and half led, 
half carried her, to the nearest waiting-room. As he passed he 
begged me to come with them, and handed me his card. 

" When we were alone the old gentleman explained that the 
sight of my face had reminded his daughter of a very peculiar 
and unpleasant dream, to which she still persisted in attaching 
importance. He said, ' At the present moment, indeed, we 
are on our way to discover if the owners of my son's ship have 
received any news of its arrival.' 

" I said, ' I am an apprentice of the C , and have but 

lately left her lying in the harbour.' 

" ' Then,' the young lady cried, ' I must be right. It must 
be true. 'Twas that man's face I saw gazing at him as he fell. 
I saw Joe's ship in the midst of a fearful storm, and him 
clinging to the slippery shrouds. A bright flash seemed to 
pass before my eyes, and I saw him falling backwards into the 
sea. I saw your face in the momentary gleam, and I woke 
perfectly terrified to hear the sound of my own name — "O 
Lucy ! Lucy ! " — whispered in my ears.' 

"The expression of my face must have conveyed but too 
well the meaning of my silence. 

"'My God,' cried Mr. , ' is it true, then? Is he 

dead ? ' 

" I stammered — ■ Too true, sir. Yes, every word of it ! I 
was beside him at the moment, and even tried to save him.' 

" From the statement subsequently given to the captain, it 
appeared that the sister had retired as usual before eleven 
o'clock. About midnight they were roused by a loud scream, 
and, on hurrying to her room, found her sitting up under the 
influence of extreme terror, declaring that she had actually 
seen her brother falling from the mast-head into the sea, and 
heard him whisper her name. 

" On comparing notes, we found that the dream took place 
the very day and, allowing for the difference in longitude, even 
the very hour when the accident occurred ! " 


This story did not reach me in time for exhaustive verifica- 
tion, but it is one which ought to be capable of being proved 
up to the hilt j for there is first the captain, who was appren- 
tice, on whose authority the story at present exclusively rests. 
His story ought to be capable of confirmation by the lady to 
whom the vision appeared, the log-book of the ship from which 
the apprentice was drowned, while the captain and her com- 
panion at the station would be of first importance in estab- 
lishing its truth. Should this be forthcoming, and the story 
verified as told by my Brecon correspondent, nothing in any 
other of the stories in this number can be regarded as ante- 
cedently incredible. This is not merely the sight of what 
occurred at a distance of 3,000 miles, but the hearing of the 
death cry which was raised in the midst of the howling of a 
tropical storm in mid-ocean. Compared with this, other 
narratives are but as an anticlimax ; but even after this story, 
one told by Mrs. Green, of Newry, in 1885, is worthy of 

An Australian Although there is no transmission of sound, nor 
Tragedy seen any of the dramatic developments which took place 
m Ireland. . n ^ p rev j ous s t ry, there was the instantaneous 
transmission of the scene of an accident from Australia to 
Ireland. Mrs. Green writes : — 

" I saw two respectably dressed females driving along in a 
vehicle like a mineral-water cart. Their horse stopped at a 
water to drink, but, as there was no footing, he lost his 
balance, and in trying to recover it he fell right in. With the 
shock the "women stood up and shouted for help, and their 
hats rose off their heads, and as all was going on 1 turned 
away crying and saying, * Was there no one at all to help 
them?' Upon which I awoke, and my husband asked me 
what was the matter. I related the above dream to him, and 
he asked me if I knew them. I said I did not, and thought I 
had never seen them. The impression of the dream and the 
trouble it brought was over me all day. I remarked to my 
son that it was the anniversary of his birthday and my own 
also — the 10th of the first month— and this is why I remember 
the day. 

" The following third month I got a letter and a newspaper 
from my brother in Australia, named Allen, letting me know 
the sad trouble which had befallen him in the loss by drown- 
ing of one of his daughters and her companion. You will see 
by the description given in the paper how the events corre- 
sponded with my dream. My niece was born in Australia, 


and I never saw her. Please return the paper at your conveni- 
ence. Considering that our night is their day, I must have 
been in sympathy with the sufferers at the time of the accident, 
on the ioth of the first month, 1878." 

The following extract from the Inglewood Advertiser shows 
that she actually saw what happened : — ■ 

" A dreadful accident occurred in the neighbourhood of 
Wedderburn on Wednesday last, resulting in the death of 
two women, named Lehey and Allen. It appears that the 
deceased were driving into Wedderburn in a spring cart from 
the direction of Kinypanial, when they attempted to water 
their horse on the dam of the boundary of Torpichen station. 
The dam was ten or twelve feet deep in one spot, and into 
this hole they must have inadvertently driven, for Mr. W. 
McKechnie, manager of Torpichen Station, upon going to the 
dam some hours afterwards, discovered the cart and horse 
under the water, and two women's hats floating on the water. 
. . . The dam was searched, and the bodies of the two 
women, clasped in each other's arms, recovered." (Vol. v., 
p. 420). 

The foregoing narratives contain the double element of the 
phantasm of the person at the moment of death, together with 
the clairvoyant vision of the scene in which the accident 
occurred. We now come to the second class, not less re- 
markable, namely, those in which the phantasm not only 
appears but speaks. 

The most remarkable of all those which are re- 
MaJ °G r h P o°s? le ' S corded by the Psychical Research Society is that 
Reports his which tells how Major Poole, who was killed in the 
battle of Lang's Neck in the Transvaal, reported 
his own death in London to his friend Colonel H. many hours 
before the telegraphic despatches brought news that the battle 
had been fought. The story is so complete in itself, and 
so remarkable in every respect, that I quote the whole of the 
evidence as it stands in the Report of the Society. Colonel 
II. writes : — ■ 

"February i$t/i, 1886. 

" I am not a believer in ghosts, spirit manifestations, or 
esoteric Buddhism. It has been my lot — a lot sought by my- 
self over and over again, and never falling to me by chance — 
to sleep in well-known or rather well-believed-to-be haunted 
rooms. I have endeavoured to encounter ghosts, spirits of 
beings (if you like) from another world, but, like other good 
things that one seeks for in life, without success. When I 


least expected it, however, I experienced a visitation so re- 
markable in its phenomena, so realistic in its nature, so 
supported by actual facts, that I was constrained, at the request 
of my friends, to put my experience into writing." 

The narrator then described how, nearly twenty-three years 
before, he had formed a friendship with two brother subalterns, 
J. P. and J. S., and how his intercourse with J. P. had been 
continued at intervals up to the time of the Transvaal war, 
when J. P. was ordered out upon the staff. J. S. was already 
upon the scene of action. Both had now attained major's 
rank ; the narrator himself had left the service some years 

In the morning that J. P. was leaving London to embark 
for the Cape, he invited the narrator to breakfast with him at 
the club, and they finally parted at the club door. 

" ' Good-bye, old fellow,' I said j ' we shall meet again, I 

" ' Yes,' he said, ' we shall meet again.' 

" I can see him now as he stood smart and erect, with his 
bright black eyes looking intently into mine. A wave of his 
hand as the hansom whirled off, and he was gone. 

"The Transvaal war was at its height. One night, after read- 
ing for some time in the library of the club, I had gone to 
my rooms late. It must have been nearly one o'clock before I 
turned into bed. I had slept, perhaps, some three hours or 
so, when I woke with a start. The grey dawn was stealing in 
through the windows, and the light fell sharply and distinctly 
on the military chest of drawers that stood at the further end 
of the room, and which I had carried about with me every- 
where during my service. Standing by my bed, beween me 
and the chest of drawers, I saw a figure which, in spite of the 
unwonted dress — unwonted, at least, to me — and of a full 
black beard, I at once recognised as that of my old brother 
officer. He had on the usual kharki coat worn by officers 
on active service in Eastern climates, a brown leather strap 
which might have been the strap of his field service glass 
crossed his breast. A brown leather girdle, with sword 
attached on left side, and revolver case on the right, passed 
round his waist. On his head he wore the ordinary white pith 
helmet of the service. I noted all these particulars in the 
moment that I started from sleep, and sat up in bed looking 
at him. His face was pale, but his black bright eyes shone as 
keenly as when, a year and a half before, they had looked at me, 
as he stood with one foot on the hansom, bidding me adieu. 


"Fully impressed for the brief moment that we were stationed 

together at C ■ in Ireland or somewhere, and thinking I 

was in my barrack-room, I said, ' Hallo ! P., am I late for 
Parade ? ' P. looked at me steadily, and replied, ' I'm shot.' 

" ' Shot ! ' I exclaimed. ' Good God ! how and where ? ' 

" ' Through the lungs,' replied P., and as he spoke his right 
hand moved slowly up the breast, until the fingers rested upon 
the right lung. 

" ' What were you doing ? ' I asked. 

" 'The General sent me forward,' he answered, and the right 
hand left the breast to move slowly to the front, pointing over 
my head to the window, and at the same moment the figure 
melted away. I rubbed my eyes to make sure I was not 
dreaming, and sprang out of bed. It was then 4.10 p.m. by 
the clock on my mantelpiece. 

" I felt sure that my old friend was no more, and what I had 
seen was only his apparition. But yet how account for the 
voice, the ready and distinct answers ? That I had seen a 
spirit, certainly something that was not flesh and blood, and 
that I had conversed with it, were alike indisputable facts. 
But how to reconcile these apparent impossibilities ? The 
thought disquieted me, and I longed for the hour when the 
club would open, and I could get a chance of learning from 
the papers any news from the seat of war in the Transvaal. 
The hours passed feverishly. I was first at the club that 
morning, and snatched greedily at the first newspaper. No 
news of the war whatever ! 

" I passed the day in a more or less unquiet mood, and 
talked over the whole circumstance with an old brother officer, 
Colonel W. He was as fully impressed with the apparition as 
I was. The following morning I was again a solitary member 
at the club, and seized with avidity the first paper that came 
to my hand. This time my anxiety was painfully set at rest, 
for my eyes fell at once on the brief lines that told of the 
battle of Lang's Neck, and on the list of killed, foremost 
among them all being poor J. P. I noted the time that the 
batlle was fought, calculated it with the hour at which I had 
seen the figure, and found that it almost coincided. From 
this simple fact I could only surmise that the figure had 
appeared to me in London almost at the moment that the 
fatal bullet had done its work in the Transvaal. 

iC Two questions now arose in my mind. First, as to proof 
that poor P. happened to wear that particular uniform at the 
time of his death, and whether he wore a beard — which I my- 


self had never seen him wear. Second, whether he had met 
his death in the manner indicated, viz. by a bullet through 
the right lung. The first facts I established beyond dispute 
about six months afterwards, through an officer who was at 
the battle of Lang's Neck and who had been invalided home. 
He confirmed every detail. The second fact was, strangely 
enough, confirmed by no less a person than J. S., more than 
a year after the occurrence, he having also left the Cape, the 
war being over. On asking J. S. if he had heard how poor P., 
our brother officer, was shot, he replied, "Just here," and his 
fingers travelled up his breast, exactly as the fingers of the 
figure had done, until they rested over the very spot over the 
right lung. 

" I have set down the foregoing, without any attempt at 
embellishment, exactly as everything occurred." 

We find from the London Gazette that the battle in which 
Major P. was killed began (according to General Elley's 
despatch) at 9.30 a.m. on January 28th, i88r. Major P. was 
probably killed between n and 12 a.m., which would be 
between 9 and 10 in London, the difference of time being 
a little under two hours. I drew Colonel H.'s attention to 
this point, and to the impossibility that the dawn should be 
beginning at 4.10 a.m. at that time of the year, and he sent the 
following reply : — 

"February 2ot/i, 1886. 

"It may have been 7.10, and The impression, 
writing now after some years' interval, is that it was 4.10 a.m., 
but I may be wrong. 

" All I know is that I calculated the time at the time, with 
the hour at which the battle was fought, and it was to all 
practical purposes the same time. 

"It was a winter morning, and the blinds were down over the 
window. The morning light at 7 a.m. in a winter month, 
coming through the blinds, would not be much stronger than 
the morning light at 4 a.m. in a summer month under the 
same circumstances. Hence I may have been mistaken in 
the hour, or the clock might have stopped unknown to me at 
4.10 a.m. that day, or even the day before." 

The first account of the battle of Lang's Neck appeared in 
the Times, Telegraph and Daily Neivs of Saturday, January 
29th, 1881. "No list of casualties." The first announce- 
ment of Major Poole's death was in a telegraphic despatch 
from the Transvaal, dated January 28th. and received by the 


Secretary of State for War in London on the 29th. " Killed : 
— Major Poole, Royal Artillery," and it appeared in the 
Observer of Sunday, January 30th, and in the three above 
mentioned papers on the 31st (Monday). 

The precise date of this vision is now irrecoverable \ but 
Mr. Gurney, who discussed the matter with Colonel H., con- 
cludes that the apparition probably occurred after the death, 
and certainly occurred before the death was announced in 
England. (Vol. V. pp. 412-415.) 

Another ^ su ™' ar story, although much less carefully told, 
Ghost report- is the following, in which the phantasm speaks and 
ing Death. p j nts to t h e pi ace where the bullet struck him, in 
this resembling the case of Major Poole : — 

Mr. Ira Sayles, of Washington, D.C., geologist U.S. Geo- 
graphical Survey, states that one day in the spring of 1857 his 
dear neighbour and intimate friend, Mrs. Stewart (now dead), 
told him that on the night previous she had woke her husband 
(now dead) with a scream. "What is the matter?" he said. 
11 Why, don't you see Johnny there ? He says to me, ' Mother, 
they've shot me. The bullet entered right here;' and he 
pointed to a hole right over his right eye." Mr. Stewart 
replied, " I don't see anything — you've been dreaming." 
11 No, I have not been dreaming, I was as wide awake as I am 
now." This Johnny was a son who had gone with a friend to 
Kansas, " then in a state of belligerent excitement over the 
status of the incipient State on the slavery and free-soil 

The mother was consequently anxious about him, but the 
young man wrote in a sanguine tone. A fortnight after the 
vision Johnny's friend returned from Kansas, and told Mrs. 
Stewart that on a certain day, at 4 p.m., a Missourian shot 
Johnny, the ball entering his head just above the right eye. 
Moreover, the day of the shooting proved to be the very day 
on which Mrs. Stewart had her vision, at night, about six 
hours after the shooting." (Vol. V. p. 129.) 

All of these preceding phantasms spoke, and 
s'un e go down there are many such instances in which the phan- 

upon thy tasm does speak. One of these comes to me from 

South Africa from the experience of the mother of 

a well-known writer. A missionary on leaving Africa called 

to bid his neighbour farewell. For some reason or other he 

had given Mrs. reason to think ill of him, and when he 

came to wish her good-bye she absolutely refused to see him. 
He pressed earnestly for the favour of a parting word, but she, 


being somewhat irate, said loudly in her room, so that her 
words could be heard by the person to whom they referred, 
" I will not shake hands with him, that's flat ! " He went 
away, and all thought of him passed from her mind. Some 
years afterwards the family was aroused by a cry of alarm after 
they had gone to bed, and on hurrying to their mother's room 
they found her in a state of great excitement. When she was 
sufficiently calm to tell them what was the matter, she said 
that she had suddenly been aroused by the sense that some 
one was in the room. She awoke wide awake in a moment, 
and to her horror she saw the missionary enter the room, and 
advancing towards her, heard him exclaim quite audibly, "You 

will shake hands with me now, Mrs. ." As he approached 

she shrieked, and the apparition vanished. Some months 
afterwards they received information from England, stating 
that the missionary had died that day. 

A similar tale is told by Mr. Pearsall Smith : — 
At a meeting of the American Psychical Research Society, 
Mr. R. Pearsall Smith said that among the illustrations of the 
claim that animals have a perception of these extraordinary 
alleged apparitions after death, might be mentioned one 
occurring to a neighbour of his own, a prominent barrister in 
Philadelphia. He had parted under painful circumstances 
of controversy with a friend, who had later gone to Italy for 
his health. Afterwards, while camping out on the wilds of 
the Adirondacks one day, his horse became excited and re- 
fused to advance when urged. While engaged in the contest 
with the horse, the barrister saw before him the apparition of 
his friend, with blood pouring from his mouth, and in an 
interval of the effusion he heard him say, " I have nothing 
against you." Soon afterwards he heard that his friend had 
died at that time during a discharge of blood from the lungs. 
Mr. Pearsall Smith was prevented from procuring a statement 
directly from the barrister by the fact that after relating it 
to his friends the recollection of the incident had become so 
painful to him that he refused to converse upon the subject. 
He added that it may easily be conceived that the barrister, 
under painful recollections of the parting of his friend, and 
with the knowledge of his ill-health, might picture his friend 
forgiving a supposed injury, and also his dying scene. The 
extraordinary features are the coincidence of time and manner 
between the vision and the death, with the added circum- 
stances of the alarm of the horse previous to the apparition. 
(Proceedings Psychical Research Society, Vol. V. p. 454) 



Mr. George King, of 12, Sunderland Terrace, 
^ h La% r r a C ta.' ,f Westbourne Park, W., sends to the Psychical 
Research Society the following account of his 
brother's apparition : — 

"My brother D., a few years my junior, was a handsome, 
powerful young man, twenty-one years of age at the time of 
his death, and he was an unusually vigorous swimmer. 

" In November, 1874, the cable was finished and shipped on 
board the La Plata, a magnificent steamship, carrying with 
her every appliance that could be required to render the ex- 
pedition safe. Next Wednesday evening, December 2nd, I 
attended a conversazione, at King's College, given by Sir 
W. Thompson, President of the Society of Telegraphic 

u I was soon asleep, but how long I remained so I do not 
know. So far as recollection goes, I had not been dreaming, 
but suddenly I found myself in the midst of a brilliant 
assembly, such as I had recently left at King's College. 

"Suddenly my brother stepped out from behind them, and 
advanced towards me. He was dressed in evening dress, like 
all the rest, and was the very image of buoyant health. I 
was much surprised to meet him, and going forward I said, 
1 Hullo ! D., how are you here ? ' He shook me warmly by 
the hand and replied, ' Did you not know that I have been 
wrecked again?' At these words a deadly faintness came 
over me. I seemed to swim away and sink to the ground. 
After a momentary unconsciousness I awoke and found my- 
self in bed. 

" Later on I went to my office and began my work, but 
presently one of the messengers, with a strange look in his 
face, came to me and said : " Is it true, sir, that your brother 
has been lost in the La Plata ? " I started up and ran to the 
marine office next door, and there the worst fears were con- 

" The last seen of my brother was that he was helping to 
launch the lifeboat. The La Plata foundered at about noon 
on Sunday, November 29th, and possibly D. perished there 
and then. But he may have possibly survived for several 
days. He was of a strong constitution and a powerful swim- 
mer ; he had on an air belt, and was beside the life-raft when 
the ship went down." (Vol. V. pp. 456-457). 

Here is a story which reaches me from a former 
A h? I r i st r r a e nd resident in North Shields :— 

" During the cholera epidemic in the North of 


England about 1 86 7-S, I remember an incident which had a 
great effect upon my boyish mind at the time. I lived in 
North Shields, and was the favourite of my great-grand- 
mother, with whom I often stayed. The old lady was rather 
a recluse in her habits, and occupied two upper rooms in her 
daughter's house. She was known to have some paper 
money about her, which, however, she carefully concealed 
somewhere from all her relatives. At the same time it was 
known she had a particular partiality for one certain cupboard 
which she used as a wardrobe in her bedroom. I mention 
these particulars as possibly explaining what followed. 

" At three o'clock one morning, while sleeping at my own 
home, I awoke to find the old lady standing at the foot of 
my bed, calling to me and beckoning to me to follow her. 
I sat up in bed, terrified at the sight, but, of course, mani- 
fested no desire to move. The old lady then became im- 
patient, and saying she could not remain longer, begged of me 
to be sure and go to * the cupboard,' this being her usual 
phrase when referring to the small wardrobe I have alluded 
to. On the old lady's departure, I was so frightened that I 
felt I dare not stay in the room, and yet, strange to say, I had 
sufficient courage to get out of bed in the dark and hurry off 
to my mother's bedroom, crossing a dark landing on the way. 
I awoke my mother and told her what had happened. She 
calmed me as much as possible and saw me off to bed again, 
but in the morning she was so much impressed with my story 
that she accompanied me on my way to school, and we called 
to see if anything was wrong with the old lady. Imagine our 
surprise on reaching the house to learn that she had been 
found dead in bed a short time before our visit. The body 
was cold, proving she had been dead some hours, the 
doctor declaring she had died of cholera. The inference 
formed was that she must have died about the hour she 
visited me. Suffice it to say, an inspection of ' the cupboard ' 
revealed the fact that other hands had done duty there before 
ours had a chance, but with what result will never be known." 
Are the ** * s a moot question whether the phantom that 

Ghosts or is seen at death is the ghost of one who has ex- 
Doubies ? pj re( j or t h e double of a living person on the point 
of death. There is considerable probability that in most cases 
k is the double of the dying and not the ghost of the dead 
that is manifested to the living. The foregoing three cases 
all point in this direction. In each case the dying person 
was conscious and living after the double had appeared, 


although in all three cases death followed in the course of a 
few hours. 

In the cases I am about to recount, the appearance of a 
phantasm very shortly preceded death. One of the most 
remarkable of its kind is the following, which is sent me by 
Mr. H. Brett, English and American Agent, 14, Sophia Street, 
Leipzig. Mr. Brett sends me the name of the solicitor, u the 
most unsentimental solicitor I ever met in the City of 
London," upon whose authority the story rests. It was told 
him some eight or nine years ago within ten days of the 
occurrence, and is, from every point of view, very remark- 
able : — 

11 Having professional relations together, I called 

^f C a le Double e 0l1 mm ° ne °^ a y^ an( ^ J a ^ ter tne matter WaS ^IS- 

posed of, he asked if I had ten minutes to spare ; 
we were both busy men. I replied affirmatively, whereupon 
he told me he was puzzled to account for something that had 
happened, and related to me the following in the matter-of- 
fact-manner of a lawyer when engaged on a particularly dry 
case : — 

" ' You know that since my wife's death I live alone except 
for the old servant, who has been with us for many years. A 
favourite old black tom-cat transferred his affections to me 
after my wife died, and when I am at home reading — my sole 
dissipation — he sits either on my shoulder or on the arm of 
my chair. About ten days ago he occupied the former 
position, as I, after a meat-tea, was reading one of the funniest 
parts of " Pickwick." I had had nothing to disturb my mind, 
no troublesome case to wade through ; my thoughts were 
immersed in the book, and I felt as cheerful as possible. The 
servant had gone out shopping ; the house was perfectly quiet. 
Suddenly the cat, which had been dozing on my shoulder, 
jumped down and began rushing about the room with bristling 
hair, and at last made for the closed door. I thought of 
burglars, so, taking up the light, began a search. When I 
reached the kitchen I found a woman dressed in deep mourn- 
ing seated on a chair and cowering over the fire. Surprised 
at having heard no one enter, and with no other thought in 
my mind than that she was a friend of my servant, I asked 
what she wanted. She turned round and rose, showing a 
very haggard and suffering face which I did not recognise at 
all. Looking all the while at me, she slowly backed to the 
wall and disappeared through it without a word. I was sur- 
prised but not startled. I had only drunk tea and eaten a 


moderate meal. I was, furthermore, reading a book tending 
to laughter and not to depression. On reaching my office 
next morning, one of the clerks handed me a telegram, saying 
that it came after my departure, and as he had forgotten my 
private address, he could not forward it. Supposing it to be 
a business matter, I opened it unconcernedly. It stated that 
my favourite sister was dying, and urged my immediate 
presence. I hurried off to her, having till then been ignor- 
ant of her illness. A niece opened the door to me and, in 
reply to my question, said her mother was still alive, but very 
nearly gone, adding, 'But oh, uncle, between half-past nine 
and ten last night we thought she was gone ; there were no 
signs of breathing or of life, and then she rallied a little ! ' I 
hastened upstairs and found my sister near her last, and so 
altered from suffering that I should not have known her. It 
was the very face I had seen in my kitchen, and at the very 
time when she was thought to be dead. She recognised me, 
but could not speak, and soon afterwards breathed her last. 
Now, I have never given a thought to ghosts or apparitions. 
How do you account for it ? ' " 

One of the best authenticated cases of this kind 
The DSe eck is what is known as the Birkbeck Ghost. It is 
told as follows in the " Proceedings of the 
Psychical Research Society " : — 

"In 1789, Mrs. Birkbeck, wife of William Birkbeck, banker, 
of Settle, and a member of the Society of Friends, was taken 
ill and died at Cockermouth, while returning from a journey 
to Scotland, which she had undertaken alone — her husband 
and three children, aged seven, five, and four years respect- 
ively, remaining at Settle. The friends at whose house the 
death occurred made notes of every circumstance attending 
Mrs. Birkbeck's last hours, so that the accuracy of the several 
statements as to time as well as place was beyond the doubt- 
fulness of man's memory, or of any even unconscious attempt 
to bring them into agreement with each other. One morning 
between seven and eight o'clock, the relation to whom the 
care of the children had been entrusted, and who kept a 
minute journal of all that concerned them, went into their bed- 
room as usual and found them all sitting up in bed in grrat 
excitement and delight. ■ Mamma has been here,' they cried, 
and the little one said, ' She called " Come, Esther ! " ' 
Nothing could make them doubt the fact, and it was carefully 
noted down to entertain the mother when she came home. 
That same morning, as their mother lay on her dying bed at 


Cockermouth, she said, 1 1 should be ready to go if I could 
but see my children.' She then closed her eyes to reopen 
them, as they thought, no more. But after ten minutes of 
perfect stillness, she looked up brightly and said, ' I am 
ready now, I have been with my children,' and then at once 
peacefully passed away. When the notes taken at the two 
places were compared, the day, hour, and minutes were the 
same." (Vol. I. p. 122). 

a Parallel to * n ^ r# Lees' " Glimpses of the Supernatural," 
the Birkbeck there is a similar instance, which differs only from 
Double. t k a t of the Birkbeck Ghost in being more recent 
and the distance between the mother and the children greater, 
for she was dying in Egypt when she appeared to the children 
in England. The story is as follows : — 

" A lady and her husband, who held a position of some 
distinction in India, were returning home (a.d. 1854) after an 
absence of four years, to join a family of young children, when 
the former was seized in Egypt with an illness of the most 
alarming character ; and, though carefully attended by an 
English Physician and nursed with the greatest care, grew so 
weak that little or no hope of her recovery existed. With that 
true kindness which is sometimes withheld by those about a 
dying bed, she was properly and painfully informed of her 
dangerous state, and bidden to prepare for the worst. Of a 
devout, pious, and reverential mind, she is reported to have 
made a careful preparation for her latter end, though no clergy- 
man was at hand to administer the last sacrament or to afford 
spiritual consolation. The only point which seemed to dis- 
turb her mind, after the delirium of fever had passed away, 
was a deep-seated desire to see her absent children once more, 
which she frequently expressed to those attending upon her. 
Day after day, for more than a week, she gave utterance of 
her longings and prayers, remarking that she would die 
happily if only this one wish could be gratified. On the 
morning of the day of her departure hence, she fell into a long 
and heavy sleep, from which her attendants found it difficult 
to arouse her. During the whole period of it she lay perfectly 
tranquil. Soon after noon, however, she suddenly awoke, 
exclaiming, ' I have seen them all, I have seen them. God 
be praised, for Jesus Christ's sake ! ' and then slept again. 
Towards the evening, in perfect peace, and with many devout 
exclamations, she calmly yielded up her spirit to God who 
gave it. Her body was brought to England and buried in 
the family burying-place. The most remarkable part of this 


incident remains to be told. The children of the dying lady 
were being educated in Torquay under the supervision of a 
friend of the family. At the very time that their mother was 
asleep, they were confined to the house where they were by a 
severe storm of thunder and lightning. Two apartments on 
one floor, perfectly distinct, were then occupied by them as 
play and recreation rooms. All were thus gathered together. 
No one of the children was absent. They were amusing 
themselves with games of chance, books, and toys in company 
of the nursemaid, who had never seen their parents. All of a 
sudden their mother, as she usually appeared, entered the 
larger room of the two, pausing, looked for some minutes at 
each, and smiled, passed into the next room, and then 
vanished away. Three of the elder children recognised her 
at once, but were greatly disturbed and impressed at her 
appearance, silence, and manner. The younger and the 
nursemaid each and all saw a lady in white come into the 
smaller room, and then slowly glide by and fade away." 

The date of this occurrence, September 10th, 1854, was 
carefully noted, and it was afterwards found that the two 
events above recorded happened almost contemporaneously. 
A record of the event was committed to paper, and transcribed 
on the fly-leaf of the Family Bible, from which the above 
account was taken and given to the editor of this book in the 
autumn of the year 187 1, by a relation of the lady in question, 
who is well acquainted with the fact of her spectral appearance 
at Torquay, and has vouched for the truth of it in the most 
distinct and formal manner. The husband, who was reported 
to have been of a somewhat sceptical habit of mind, was deeply 
impressed by the occurrence. And though it is seldom re- 
ferred to now, it is known to have had a very deep and lasting 
religious effect on more than one person who was permitted 
directly to witness it. ("Glimpses of the Supernatural," pp. 

The number of apparitions of sailors is very re- 

F to D-Shim!" 6 markable. Here is one taken from Mr. Kendall's 

diary, which is told by Mr. Alderman Fowler, of 

Durham. Mr. Fowler, who is one of the patriarchs of the 

North of England, tells the story as follows : — 

" I was assistant at a shop in Durham, near my present place 
of business, when a singular circumstance happened to me 
which seemed to imply that the spirits of the departed have, at 
least at the time of their departure, the power to manifest them- 
selves to survivors. I had a brother whom I familiarly called 


Mat, who was a sailor, and had gone on a voyage to the Baltic. 
One Saturday afternoon I was attending to a customer, reckon- 
ing up an amount to be paid after serving the articles, when I 
happened to look towards the window, and was surprised to 
see my brother Mat outside. Our eyes met : I smiled and 
nodded to him, and said, Til be with you presently/ or 
something of that sort. I told my master that my brother 
Mat had come and was standing outside. I was immediately 
released from my engagement with the customer and told that 
I might go to my brother and also bring him to sleep with me 
that night. When I went out into the street expecting to see 
my brother Mat, he was nowhere to be seen. I spent all the 
evening seeking for him at places where he might have called, 
but without success. I was so disturbed at this that I went 
off home to Shiney Row next morning to see if they knew 
aught ; but he had not been there, nor had they heard any 
news of him. But this was the astonishing coincidence which 
I learned afterwards. Mat died in the hospital at Elsinore 
about the time when I saw him standing in the street in 
Durham. The date was October 21st, 1837." 

Alderman Fowler, who is still living, has been five times 
Mayor of Durham. His son, named from the sailor of the 
vision, has been mayor this year (1891). 

A story of very much the same character, describing the 
vision of a lieutenant at the moment of death, is sent me by a 
journalist at Bournemouth, but the circumstances are not such 
as call for narration at length. 

a Ghost with A stor y °f a fisherman, much more recent, is 

a cut Across sent me by Mr. H. Walton, Dent, Sedburgh. In 

the cheek. ^Jg case the apparition not only notified its death, 

but showed the existence of a cut on one of the cheeks, which 

was found subsequently on the corpse : — 

" In the month of April, 1881, I was located in Norfolk, and 
my duties took me once a fortnight to a fishing village on 
that coast, so I can guarantee the following facts : — It is 
customary for the fishing smacks to go to Grimsby ' line fish- 
ing ' in the spring. The vessels started one afternoon on their 
journey north. In the evening a heavy north-east wind blew, 
and one of the boats mistook the white surf on the rocks for 
the reflection of a lighthouse. In consequence the boat got 
into shallow water, a heavy sea came, and swept two men from 
the deck. One man grasped a rope and was saved ; the other, a 
young man, failed to save himself, though an expert swimmer. 
It was said that he was heard to shout about eleven o'clock. 


Towards one o'clock the young man's mother, lying awake, saw 
his apparition come to the feet of the bed clad in white, and 
she screamed with fright and told her husband what she had 
seen, and that J. was drowned. He sought to calm her by 
saying she must have been dreaming. She asserted the con- 
trary. Next day, when her daughter came in with the telegram 
of the sad event, before her daughter had time to speak, she 
cried out ■ J. is drowned ! ' and became unconscious ; she re- 
mained in this state for many hours. When she regained con- 
sciousness, she told them particularly and distinctly what she 
saw ; and what is to the point is this remarkable thing : she 
said, ' If ever the body is found, it has a cut across the cheek,' 
specifying which cheek. The body was found some days 
after, and exactly as the mother had seen it was the cut on the 

This, however, is nothing compared with the awful story of 
a sister who appeared to a brother in America nine years after 
death with a scratch on her cheek as red as if it had been 
made yesterday, the said scratch having been caused by the 
needle used in sewing the corpse's shroud. The brother knew 
nothing of this, for the mother had kept it to herself. He 
recognised his sister, but could not understand the scratch. 
When he mentioned it to his mother, she confessed what she _ 
had done nine years before. 

The Latest ^ ne ^ atest g nost m our collection appeared on 
Recorded September 30th, 1891. The writer, who sends me 

Apparition, fife name an( j address, requests me not to publish it, 
inasmuch as he objects to be pestered to death by inquiries, 
and if it were known that he had seen a ghost in his present 
house he would be left without any servants. The story is as 
follows : — 

" I am a ' Popish ' priest stationed in a country district, 
lead a very quiet life, and am free from excitements of any 
kind. I enjoy excellent health, and, I am thankful to say, 
possess a sound mind in a sound body. I am by no means 
superstitious, and my friends describe me as a most unim- 
pressionable man. On the afternoon of Wednesday, the 30th 
of September of this present year, I visited one of my sick 
people, a man who had been suffering from a chest disease for 
many years. I heard his confession, and having chatted with 
him for some time, left the house, promising to bring him 
Holy Communion the following morning. I walked briskly 
home, a distance of two miles or thereabouts, calling at one 
house on the way. I reached my cottage shortly before dusk, 



and while my servant was preparing my tea I amused myself 
by glancing over the paper which had arrived by the afternoon 
post. While I was folding over the sheet I happened to look 
across the room. I was simply astounded at what I saw. It 
seemed as if the opposite wall had disappeared. I distinctly 
saw poor John's (the sick man I had visited that afternoon) 
bed. There was the man himself, so it seemed to me, sitting 
up in the bed and looking straight at me. I saw him as dis- 
tinctly as I now see this paper upon which I write. I was 
greatly astonished, but by no means frightened. I sat staring 
at the appearance for quite five seconds, and then it gradually 
disappeared in much the same fashion as a ' dissolving view/ 
the wall coming back again to sight as the other picture faded 
away. At first I thought that it had no objective reality, but 
was purely subjective. But then John and his illness were not 
at all in my mind. I was thinking about what I was reading. 
I had often visited this particular man, had seen many sick 
people, and had been present at the death of several \ besides, 
I did not think that John was, as yet, near death. 

"The next morning, as I was entering the church, to say 
mass, I saw John's wife in the porch, crying, ' O, Father ! ' 
she cried out, ' my heart is broke, O Father ! John, my dear 
one, died last night, and so sudden ! You hadn't gone an 

hour scarce. He (John -) sits up in the bed and he says : 

" Is the Father gone, Moll." " Why ? " says I, " didn't you say 
good-bye to he, Jack ? " " Ah, yes," says he, " but I wants he. 
I'm bad, Moll. I'm a dyin', he's to say mass for me, mind 
that ; " and with your name on his lips, father, he fell back — 
dead.' I ascertained that it was heart disease. 

" I did not mention what I saw to the woman, nor have I 
mentioned it to a single soul, except to yourself. If it got 
known that I had seen a ' spirit ' in my house it would be all 
over with my comfort. My housekeeper would pack off, and 
I should be left to make my own bed, scrub my own house 
down, and cook my own food. You must, therefore, accept 
my statement for what it is worth in your own estimation. I 
can only give you my bare word that it is quite true, that I 
have no wish to deceive, and that, as a priest of God's true 
Church, I should not so far forget my mission as to propagate 
a falsehood. 



" The stubborn, unlaid Ghost 
That breaks its magic chains at curlew-time." — Cbmus. 

IN this chapter I have given the narrative of occurrences at 
spiritualist seances a wide birth. But considering the 
immense array of evidence — evidence which has convinced 
Professor Crookes and Mr. A. R. Wallace— as to the reality of 
spiritualistic phenomena, it would be unscientific to exclude 
the evidence of spiritualists merely because they are spiritualists. 
I do not enter here upon the much-debated question of the 
phenomena witnessed at seances. I only quote their evidence 
as to apparitions announcing death after the persons are 
unmistakably dead. Miss Rowan Vincent is a lady living in 
London, who, although not a professional medium, is an 
enthusiastic spiritualist. She is at this moment engaged in 
painting, under what she regards as " spirit control," a large 
historical picture of the assassination of the Emperor Paul. 
As she says she never learnt painting, and did not even know 
that the Emperor Paul was assassinated, her equipments for 
the task are of the slenderest. Her own account is that her 
spirit guides directed her as to what brushes and paints to buy, 
control her in mixing the colours, and use her hand to wield 
the brush. One curious little detail she mentioned, that the 
list of paints given by the " spirits," and which she took to the 
colourman's, contained the names of colours long since dis- 
used or known only by another name. I mention this in order 
to afford the strongest possible justification to the ordinary 
reader for distrusting Miss Rowan Vincent's evidence. Her 
story, however, is verified, notwithstanding its antecedent 
incredibility. Here is the remarkable narrative of an appari- 
tion, twelve hours after death, which Miss A. Rowan Vincent, 
of 31, Gower Place, Endsleigh Gardens, W.C., saw in Apiil 
of last year : — 

"On the night of Thursday, April 24th, 1890, I had retired 
to rest, when I found I had not turned the cat out of the 


room. I then rose to do so, and after closing the door, turned 
round to go to my bed, and was surprised to see, standing 
between myself and the bedstead, the form of a man, whom I 
recognised as a friend I had not seen for several years, 
although I had heard he was ill. As I looked, his form 
slowly faded away. I then took up a written alphabet which 
in my occult investigations I am accustomed to use, when at 

once these words were spelt out : ' My name is Charles C . 

I died between twelve and half-past.' I looked at my watch ; 
it was then ten minutes to one o'clock. The next morning I 
told the friend in whose house I am living, Mrs. Brinkley, 31, 
Gower Place, W.C. I also told my medical man, who called 
during the day, Dr. Marsh, 56, Fitzroy Street, W. On the 
following Monday morning I received a letter from my old 
friend, Mrs. C, telling me her husband had died on Thursday, 
the 24th instant, between twelve and half-past in the day, so 
that he had been dead twelve hours when he appeared to me. 

" The name of the ghost I have not given in full, but enclose 
it in confidence." 

I wrote to the persons named, and here is their replies : — ■ 

11 56, Fitzroy Street, W., 

"Nov. cft/i, 1891. 
" Dear Sir, — The description and details of ghost story as 
given in the slip enclosed is quite correct. Miss Vincent 
gave me the account of the same April 25th, 1890. I have 
known her for some years, and I am convinced of her absolute 

" C. C. Marsh." 
"London, Nov. iot/1, 1891. 
" Dear Sir, — I can vouch for the truth of the statement 
made by Miss Vincent as regards my husband. I was present 
at his death, and can only say he passed away on Thursday, 
April 24th, 1890, at twenty minutes past twelve p.m. 

" Yours faithfully, 

" E. F. C." 

"31, Gower Place, Endsleigh Gardens. 
" Dear Sir, — I have much pleasure in confirming Miss 
Rowan Vincent's narrative. It is quite correct, all she states. 

" Yours very truly, 

" M. J. Brinkley." 

This seems, therefore, to be a clear case of an apparition 
of the dead. The alphabet to which Miss Rowan Vincent 
refers is simply a printed ABC, which she uses by allowing 


the forefinger of the right hand to remain passive, when, 
according to her own account, it is rapidly removed from 
letter to letter, which form words and compose sentences. I 
have seen Miss Rowan Vincent, and questioned her as to 
why the deceased should have come to her, and as to the 
confirmation possible. Unfortunately, the note she made at 
the time was burnt in a fire that took place some time subse- 
quently, but with that exception the evidence seems clear. 

a Death ^ r ' Matthew M. Cameron, of Gowan Bank, 
announced at Hamilton, sends the following account of a com- 

a Seance, munication, made at a se'ance, of the death of a 
stranger by his ghost : — 

" About ten years ago I was filling a situation in the town of 
Hawick. Previous to that I had engaged often in the amuse- 
ment and recreation of table-turning, etc., so that I knew 
something of the modus operandi. 

" In Hawick I had interested a couple of gentlemen, whose 
friendship I had made, in what are termed spiritualistic 
se'ances, and we had many evenings together around the 
table. One night in particular, in my lodgings, we com- 
menced operations. In five minutes or so the table was 
heaving, cracking, and tilting. When we felt sure that full 
command of the table had been got, I began asking questions. 
The way we got answers was as follows : — One knock meant 
1 No,' while three meant ' Yes ' ; when we wanted names or 
words we went over the alphabet slowly, and the table tilted at 
the correct letter. We asked if any one was controlling the 
table. Three smart raps was the answer. 

" ' Would the person kindly give his or her name ? ' — ' Yes.' 

" Then we spelled it out — George Moffat. 

" ' Have you been long in the spirit world ? ' — ' No.' 

" ' When did you leave earth life ?"— No answer. 

" ' A month ago ? ' — ' No.' 

"<A week?'— 'No.' 

'"Aday?"— 'No.' 

" At this we had to go over the alphabet to get the hours. 
Two hours was the number. 

" ' Where did you die ? ' — ' Glasgow.' 

u 'Where were you born?' — Applying the alphabet, we got 

11 ' What did you do ? ' — At this we went over every possible 
trade and profession likely to be found in such a place as 
Innerleithen. This was to save the trouble of going over the 
alphabet, but all to no purpose. We registered No's to every 


query. At last we took to spelling it out, and we got, what 
certainly none of us were looking for, Elocutionist. 

" Then it flashed upon one of us who he was, and that he 
was advertised to give an entertainment in the district in a few 

"Our party broke up that night, each saying, 'We'll see.' 
Next morning I was at my place of business as usual, when 
about my first visitor was one of the friends who had been of 
the party the night previous. 

" ' Have you seen the papers ?' — 'No,' I answered. 

11 ' Well, look here/ pointing to a paragraph. To my amaze- 
ment it stated that Mr. George Moffat, the elocutionist, had 
suddenly died in Glasgow the night previous, at the certain 
hour of which we had received notice. 

" This is my story, on which I make no comment. The 
two gentlemen, who, along with myself, were actors in the 
seance, do not know I am writing this, and therefore I cannot 
use their names, but I will enclose their names and addresses 
so that you may be able to communicate with them if you 
think fit. I think it best not to Jet them know, because they 
will be able to give an independent corroboration of the above 

Another ^ r - Andrew Glendinning, of i r, St. Philip's 

Spiritualist's Road, Dalston, furnishes me with the following 

story - narrative of a ghost which showed commendable 

anxiety that the news of its death should be broken kindly to 

its widow. Mr. Glendinning writes : — 

"In September, 1870, Captain Buchan, of Port-Glasgow, 
was trading between China and Japan. He was 41 years of 
age, a gentleman of good education, intelligent, of refined 
manners and, being in excellent health, seemed likely to live 
long. He had no premonition of illness, for about that time 
he sent me a letter setting forth his plans for some months to 
come. On the evening of 30th September, 1870 (I give the 
date as best I can), a lady who is a clairvoyant said to me, 
1 Captain Buchan was here to-day ; he is dead, and he wishes 
you to go and break the news to Mrs. Buchan.' I said, ' You 
are mistaken, the captain is alive and well.' I placed in her 
hands a letter, then recently received from the captain, and 
told her the letter might put her en rapport with him. She 
replied, ' Yes, he was alive when he wrote this, and he is alive 
still, but is what you call dead, and he desires you to call on 
Mrs. Buchan and break the news to her.' About three weeks 
afterwards the owners of the steamer received a telegram from 


the mate announcing the death of the captain. It was re- 
marked by me at the time that the date of death given in the 
telegram confirmed to that extent the statement made by the 
lady. A memorial stone in Port-Glasgow cemetery bears the 
following inscription : — 

"Alexander Thomson Buchan, 


Died at Amoy, China, 

30th September, 1870. 

Aged 41 years. 

"In 1887 I asked Mrs. Buchan (now Mrs. McMurtrie) how 
long was it after her husband's death ere she received the 
intelligence. She replied she could not give the exact date, 
but that it was a few days after the bazaar in Port-Glasgow for 
the new Town Hall. The Greenock Telegraph gives the dates 
of the Bazaar as October 20th, 21st, and 22nd, 1870. The 
first telegram from the mate was to the owners of the steamer, 
and stated why he had been unable to send it sooner." 

I have asked Mr. Alexander Rose, of 10, Hay burn Cres- 
cent, Patrick Hill, Glasgow, a native of Port-Glasgow, who 
knew Captain Buchan, to give some particulars of this ghost 
case. The following is his statement : — 

" On October 1st, 1870, Mr. Andrew Glendinning informed 
me that, on the previous evening, a lady well known to us 
both, residing in Port-Glasgow, told him Captain Buchan was 
dead, that his wraith had appeared to her that day, and had 
desired her to request my friend, Mr. Glendinning, to let his 
widow know. On the following October 20th, 1870 (a Thurs- 
day), a bazaar was held in the New Town Hall, Port-Glasgow. 
Mrs. Buchan was one of the stall-holders. I visited the Hall 
with Mr. Glendinning. In the midst of the usual hilarity of a 
bazaar, Mr. Glendinning suddenly took hold of my arm, and 
said to me, 'There is Captain Buchan's wife, and she does not 
know she is a widow.' A few days afterwards a telegram was 
received announcing the captain's death. The place where 
the captain died was not in telegraphic communication with 
this country, and there was a delay of some days ere the mate 
could send a message. I also remember Mr. Glendinning 
telling me that he had doubted the lady's statement, and that 
he had placed in her hand a letter he had received from the 
captain, and that the lady then minutely described the death- 
scene. The captain, when walking with his first officer, 


suddenly put his hand to his heart, and said, 'My God !' and 
dropped dead. This was afterwards confirmed when letters 
arrived giving details — even to the date of death. Mr. Glen- 
dinning also informed me that when the lady was in an 
abnormal condition she asked for a map, and putting her 
finger on a spot in the China Seas, said the vessel will go 
down there in twenty-nine fathoms of water. We were inter- 
ested in the prophecy, as we had entrusted the captain with a 
quantity of oils and paints to sell for us ; all the spare money 
I had at that time I put in the venture. Some time after 
Captain Buchan's death, when the vessel was lost, the Ad- 
miralty chart showed it to be in twenty-nine fathoms of water." 
a Dead Man ^ ne following narrative, which was sent me by a 
describes his Free Church minister in Dumbartonshire, reads, I 

Death ' admit, somewhat too much like a magazine article. 
Believing that it had been " written up," I returned the MS. to 
the writer with an intimation to that effect. He replied, some- 
what indignantly, that the story was literally true : — 

" The story is in all its essential parts absolutely true. The 
incident on which it is based took place in the village in which 
my early home was situated. I knew well the man who fell 
over the rocks. We were together at the same school, and we 
often played on the sands that stretched out before him as he 
lay in his helpless condition. I also knew the person who 
held the strange monologue with him after his death. I got 
the story as I have given it from his own lips. 

" It is some years since the event happened ; but it caused 
a good deal of noise at the time, all the more so that Ewan 
was suspected of having murdered Ronald. It was only when 
it was proved that Ewan was in the habit of seeing visions, 
and that he was residing, at the time of Ronald's disappear- 
ance, in another part of the country, that he was acquitted. 

" I could, if necessary, get many witnesses to authenticate 
the facts. Even within no great distance of your own office 
there are two who could verify its accuracy — a sister in one 
of the largest of the London Hospitals, and a master in an 
English School. 

"I have entered into this matter at such length because you 
seem to throw doubt on the truth of my story. The circum- 
stance that I am a clergyman, a member of the Royal Society, 
and of the Society of Antiquaries of Scotland, and that I have 
contributed to many of the learned and popular publications 
and journals, from the E?uyclopcedia Britannica downwards, 
ought in itself to be a sufficient guarantee." 


Here, then, is his story, carefully revised by himself, so as 
to make it correspond as exactly as possible to the facts : — 

"The wayside inn at Ballvona, in the far north, was pictur- 
esque and comfortable, and within easy reach was abundance 
of excellent fishing. I had a ' ghillie ' who was as well versed 
in piscatorial lore as ancient Walton himself. Ronald Mac- 
Ivor knew every pool in the river, and every nook in it where 
a salmon lay; and he was an equally unerring authority away 
among the lonely mountain lochs and streams. He was an 
intelligent, manly fellow, light of heart and foot, and just such 
a guide as makes a holiday bright and pleasant. Little did I 
dream, as I parted with him one evening, after a memorable 
day's sport, that I should never again hear iiis cheerful laugh, 
or listen to those weird Highland stories that so often lightened 
the tedium of the homeward journey. 

" Ronald was engaged to be married to the miller's daughter 
— a rustic beauty residing in the adjacent hamlet. It was his 
custom to visit her at the close of each day. His course, for 
more than a mile, lay along the ledge of high rocks which 
sloped down to the sea. Though the way was dangerous to 
one unacquainted with it, he was familiar from childhood with 
every step of it. One night he started later than usual, and in 
order to shorten the distance he struck down towards the 
rocks, with the intention of getting to the base at a point 
further on, but in doing so he lost his foothold, and fell a dis- 
tance of thirty feet. 

"The following morning, after waiting for Ronald until 
mid day, I had to go alone to a favourite moorland stream, 
and did not return till late. Then it was that I found he had 
disappeared. Ominous fears and whispers were soon in full 
wing. But the general alarm did not move me. I had con- 
fidence in Ronald, and was certain that he would shortly 
turn up. This he did, though in a way far other than I had 

" In the gloom of the third evening, as Ewan Matheson — a 
thoughtful but absent-minded villager — was wending his way 
homewards, he saw Ronald coming in his direction from one 
of the neighbouring houses. Never doubting it was he, Ewan 
accosted him as they met ; but the words that fell on his ears, 
so plaintive and supernatural, filled him with unutterable dread. 

'"Iara gone, gone for ever,' said he. ' They seek me, but 
in life they shall never find me. It is not I you see ; it is my 
spirit, my shadow. As we move on I will tell you how the 
great change came.' 



" With that the two moved side by side, the living human 
personality and the strange unearthly spectre, and the follow- 
ing monologue— which the narrator afterwards declared held 
him with a grip and a fascination that were more than human 
— took place. 

" ' Three nights ago, when on my way to the Old Mill, I 
took the short cut along the edge of the cliff; but, in attempt- 
ing to strike down through the passage in the rocks, I put my 
foot on a tuft of wet grass, and slipped and fell. It was the 
work of an instant, but it seemed an age j and then there was 
a sharp, blinding sensation, and I knew no more till at mid- 
night I awoke as from a troubled dream. There was a dull 
pain in my head, where the projecting rock came in contact 
with it ; otherwise I was unhurt, for I fell on the loose, soft 
sand, within the sea margin. The moon was up, and in its 
broken light I managed to bind my pocket-handkerchief 
around the wound. 

ft i I then lay down and tried to rest, but I could not rest. 
My brain was in a tempestuous whirl, and thought chased 
thought like the waves which rolled on in front. What was to 
become of me ? Would I die before the morning ? Or if I 
lived to see the day, was there any chance of my being found ? 
I looked around in the vague hope that some one might be 
near ; but the spot where I lay was lonely and unfrequented, 
and though I heard the distant barking of dogs, and the 
startled cry of a solitary sea bird, as it flew overhead, no 
human being was near. Far out in the bay I saw the light of 
a passing ship, and instinctively I endeavoured to cry, but my 
voice was drowned by the wind and the waves, and the light 
soon went out in the void. Then I knew there was no de- 
liverance that night. 

" ' Shortly afterwards I fell asleep ; but my sleep was dis- 
turbed, and full of dreams. When I awoke the sun was rising 
behind the mountains, and crowning the hills and the dales 
with the glory of a new-born day. Yet the light for which I 
longed was more terrible than the darkness. There to the 
right stretched the beautiful sands on which we used, with 
free, joyous hearts, to play our boyish games. And there, 
further up, on the green slope, stood the village burying- 
ground, with its tall, white stones. But worse than all I saw, 
with horror, that the waves were within a few feet of me, and 
that the last tide had swept the place where I lay. 

" ' Oh, the agony of it ; to have life, full and buoyant, 
crushed out slowly inch by inch ! The waves were nearing, 


creeping on like serpents towards their prey. Could I only 
get out of their reach, I felt sure I should be found by the 
children on their way to school, or as they wandered at the 
play hour. While I thus reflected a wave came dashing over 
me, and stirred up what of energy there was still within me. 
I managed, though the pain was excruciating, to drag myself 
outside the sea level, and then for a time there was another 
troubled blank. 

" 'When I next awoke I heard the voices of the children at 
play above me ; but I could neither speak nor cry. A parch- 
ing in my throat stifled the words as they came, and they 
sounded to myself like painful whispers. And the children 
were so near I could recognize them by their voices— the chil- 
dren that could save me, did they but know ! 

11 ' The sun had passed slowly to the west, and the dark 
shadows fell once more. I was faint and tired, and in utter 
weariness I lay back on the earth, with the sky overhead, and 
the stars looking down with infinite pity in their far-away eyes. 
I could not pray, for my soul seemed heavy as lead, and wild, 
rebellious thoughts filled my heart. And yet I was dying. 
Before me no green island rose out of the infinite blackness, 
no haven of peace to which I could flee and be at rest. Be- 
hind me, amid much that was obscure, there stood forth the 
memories and the deeds of the past. They became as living 
things, stamped each one with my own figure and character. 
They pressed on nearer and nearer. I tried to escape them, 
but I could not, any more than I could rise from the place 
where I lay. At last they came up behind me, and with cruel 
hands they thrust me out over the margin into the dark and 
boundless ocean of death. The earth and sea and sky are 
blotted out from my view, and the woe and the mystery of the 
Eternal penetrate every chamber of my being.' 

11 The spectral voice ceased ; and Ewan, looking round, saw 
what he had not noticed before, that the clothes and the body 
of his ghostly companion were burning from within outwards, 
and yet were not consumed. The sight, preceded by the 
weird story, was too much for him, and coming at the instant 
to a house, the door of which stood open, he rushed in and 
swooned. On recovering he told what he had seen and heard, 
but no one believed his tale. They said it was the creation of 
his own imagination, the mere phantasy of an overheated brain ; 
and so little heed did they give to it that they did not even 
seek to verify its truth or discover its falsehood by going to the 
spot where Ronald was said to have met his death. 


"Next day was dark and lowering. The clouds chased 
each other in wild array, and the birds hovered low, with a 
wide circling flight. About mid-day the storm raged, and the 
white capped waves rolled mountain-high, and dashed in fury 
against the rocks of the north — the first barrier to break their 
course during an onward reach of more than three thousand 
miles. In nature, grand as it is, there is nothing grander than 
this war of the storm, the sea, and the beetling cliff. 

"It was not, however, to admire the grandeur of the ele- 
mental strife that the inhabitants of Ballvona hastened to the 
shore. A vessel hove in sight with dismantled masts, and, 
unable to brave the heavy sea, had turned landwards, and was 
drifting for the bay. This was her only chance, but it was full 
of risk, for there was no depth of water, and beneath were 
treacherous banks of sand. On she came, with her living 
freight, at one time hidden altogether from view, then perched 
aloft ; but at last there is a crash — she has grounded and 
heeled over on her side. Those on shore put out manfully to 
the rescue of the unfortunate crew, and soon all of them, not 
already swept overboard, were brought in safety to land. 

" It was a sad day, and it cast a gloom over many a heart. 
But its saddest sight had yet to be revealed. As the villagers 
who had been viewing the shipwreck were returning, they 
discovered the dead body of Ronald Maclvor, stretched on 
the sand a few feet beyond the sea margin, with a gash in his 
forehead and a pocket-handkerchief used as a bandage for 
the wound. 

" The rivers and the lochs of Ballvona are as full of fish as 
ever; but somehow I have not the same interest in them now 
that I had in the old days, when Ronald Maclvor was my 
unfailing guide and counsellor." 

I print his communication, which is quite unique in the 
widely varied narratives which I have received, with all 
reserve. But for his voucher I should certainly have doubted 
the possibility of any statement so long and so detailed being 
made by a ghost. Ghosts are usually either monosyllabic or 
exceedingly reserved in their communications, whereas this 
ghost made quite a long harangue. However, the story is 
interesting, and in one point quite awful in its gruesome 

a Dead Man One °*" tne ^ est authenticated ghosts on record 
Accompanied is that of Philip Weld, who appeared to his father 

by a saint. a ^ er ^ j^ ^ een d rowne( 3 j accompanied by two 

persons, one of whom was never recognised and the third was 


subsequently discovered to be St. Stanislaus Kostka. Philip 
Weld had been drowned when at St. Edmund's College in 
Hertfordshire. The Principal went to Southampton next day 
to break the news to the boy's father. He met Mr. Weld 
walking towards Southampton. He immediately stopped the 
carriage, alighted, and was about to address him when Mr. 
Weld prevented him by saying : — 

" * You need not say one word, for I know that Philip is 
dead. Yesterday afternoon I was walking with my daughter, 
Catherine, and we suddenly saw him. He was standing on 
the path, on the opposite side, of the turnpike road, between 
two persons, one of whom was a youth dressed in a black 
robe. My daughter was the first to perceive them, and ex- 
claimed, " Oh, papa ! did you ever see anything so like Philip 
as that is ? " " Like him," I answered, " why, it is him." Strange 
to say, my daughter thought nothing of the circumstance, 
beyond that we had seen an extraordinary likeness of her 
brother. We walked on towards these three figures. Philip 
was looking, with a smiling, happy expression of countenance, 
at the young man in a black robe, who was shorter than him- 
self. Suddenly they seemed to me all to have vanished : I 
saw nothing but a countryman whom I had seen before 
through the three figures, which gave me the impression that 
they were spirits.' 

" Mr. Weld went to the funeral of his son, and as he left 
the church after the sad ceremony looked round to see if 
any of the religious at all resembled the young man he had 
seen with Philip, but he could not trace the slightest likeness 
in any of them. 

" Four months later, when visiting at Chipping, in Lancaster, 
suddenly Mr. Weld stopped before a picture which had no 
name. * That is the person whom I saw with Philip • I do 
not know whose likeness this print is, but I am certaiji that it 
was that person I saw with Philip.' 

"The priest entered the room a few minutes afterwards, 
and was immediately questioned by Mr. Weld concerning the 

" He answered that it was a print of St. Stanislaus Kostka, 
and supposed to be a very good likeness of the young 

" Mr. Weld was much moved at hearing this, for St. Stanis- 
laus was a Jesuit who died when quite young, and Mr. Weld's 
father, having been a great benefactor of the Order, his family 
was supposed to be under the particular protection of the 


Jesuit saints j also, Philip had been led of late, by various 
circumstances, to a particular devotion to St. Stanislaus. 

" Moreover, St. Stanislaus is supposed to be the especial 
advocate of drowned men, as is mentioned in his life " (vol. ii. 
pp. 180-182). 

The appearance of St. Stanislaus side by side with young 
Weld is quite inexplicable by any theory of telepathy or the 
astral camera obscura, or any other analogy which has ever 
been invented to suggest an explanation for such apparitions. 

One of the best and at the same time one of 
in a Raifway the simplest ghost stories I have heard from my 

station. f r i en c[s was that which was told me by the 
manager of Mr. Burgess, who used to print the Review of Reviews. 
Mr. Archer is a brother Tynesider. When he was a youth he 
was employed as telegraphist at the Gateshead railway station. 
At the end of the platform stood, and possibly still stands, the 
dead house, which was an eerie and unpleasant object to 
young Archer, who was on night duty at the station, and when 
he left his office in the early hours of the morning he was 
always uneasy in passing the dead house, and was always 
exceedingly glad when he could find any one to accompany 
him while he was in the immediate vicinity. One morning, 
about two o'clock he came out upon the platform, and was 
walking in the direction of the dead house, feeling that he 
would have to go past it alone. To his great delight he saw 
standing on the platform, at a short distance in front of him, 
the familiar figure of a man in the employ of the railway 
company. Hoping to secure the company of the workman 
past the dead house, he stepped up to him, when, to his 
utter astonishment and no little dismay, the figure vanished 
into thin air. Feeling very uncomfortable, but not knowing 
what to make of it, he went to the signalman at Greenfield 

and told him he could not understand it ; he had just seen 

standing on the platform, and when he went up to him he 
suddenly disappeared. The signalman looked rather aston- 
ished, and said, "You have seen ? It is impossible; 

did you not know that he was killed yesterday, and his body is 
lying in the dead house at this moment ? " It was now Mr. 
Archer's turn to be dismayed ; he was perfectly certain he had 
seen the man, and yet the man was dead. 

a Ghost ^ r# Archer's vision was that of an unmistakably 
in th°e dead man, and so is the following, which I quote 

Sunlight. from t]ie « p roceec ii n g S f the Psychical Research 


Society." The story is told by the Rev. Gerard Louis, of St. 
Paul's Vicarage, Margate. He says : — 

" It was a hot and bright afternoon in summer, and as if it 
were only yesterday, I remember perfectly well walking down 
the broad bright street in the bright afternoon. I had to pass 

the house of P . I remarked, indeed, that all his window 

blinds were drawn carefully down, as if to screen his furniture, 
of which his wife was inordinately proud, from the despoiling 
rays of the afternoon sun. I smiled inwardly at the thought. 
I then left the road and stepped upon the side pavement, and 
looked over the area rails into the front court below. A 
young man dressed in dark clothes and without a hat, and 
apparently about twenty, was standing at the door beneath the 
front steps. On the instant, from his likeness to my friend 

P , I seemed to recognise his son. We both stood and 

looked very hard at each other. Suddenly, however, he 
advanced to that part of the area which was immediately 
below where I was standing, fixed on me a wide, dilated, 
winkless sort of stare, and halted. The desire to speak was 
evidently legible on his face, though nothing audible escaped 
his lips. But his eyes spoke, every feature of his face spoke 
— spoke, as it were, in silent language, in which reproach and 
pain seemed to be equally intermingled. At first I was 
startled , then I began to feel angry. ' Why,' I said to 
myself, 'does he look at me in that manner?' At last, 
annoyance prevailed over surprise ; I turned away with the 
half-muttered thought, ' He certainly knows me by sight as a 
friend of his father, and yet he has not the civility to salute 
me. I will call on the first opportunity and ask his reason for 
such behaviour.' I then pursued my way and thought no 
more of what had occurred. 

" On Wednesday it was my turn to officiate at the local 

cemetery, and, to my surprise, I had to bury Mr. P 's son. 

I lost no time in calling upon Mr. P and his wife. I 

found the latter at home, and what she had to say only made 

me more uncomfortable still. James Henry P died 

terribly in earnest, wishing in vain to the last that I would 
come, on the Thursday before the Sunday on which I had 
seen him. He had died, too, in the front room on a level 
with the area into which its window opened. He had also 
lain there until the Wednesday following awaiting burial. His 
corpse then was lying in that very room on the very Sunday, 
and at the very moment, too, that I had seen his living like- 
ness, as it were, in the area outside." (Pp. 93, 94, 95). 

This ghost in the sunlight ought to have been photographed. 



The Preci i- A s a ru ^ e ' w ^ tnesses °f phantoms are so much 
tationofa ■*** flurried that they do not appear to be able 
Spectral Face. tQ no t{ ce jj OW the phantoms come or how they go. 
This, however, is not the case in two remarkable instances 
which I shall now proceed to relate. The first, which I found 
in Mr. Kendall's diary, relates to an old friend of mine, the 
Rev. Colin McKechnie, who occupied my father's pulpit many 
years ago, and whom I have known for years. Mr. McKech- 
nie is a hard-headed Scotchman, and his account of how the 
face of his grandfather gradually formed itself on the kitchen 
ceiling and then as gradually faded away, is one of the most 
precise descriptions that I ever read of the coming and going 
of a phantasmal appearance : — 

" I was about ten years of age at the time, and had for several 
years been living with my grandfather, who was an elder in the 
Kirk of Scotland, and in good circumstances. He was very 
much attached to me, and often expressed his intention of 
having me educated for the ministry of the Kirk. Suddenly, 
however, he was seized with an illness which in a couple of 
days proved mortal. At the time of his death, and without 
my having any apprehension of it, I happened to be at my 
father's house, about a mile off. I was leaning in a listless 
sort of way against the kitchen table, looking upwards at the 
ceiling, and thinking of nothing in particular, when my grand- 
father's face appeared, at first dim and indistinct, and then 
becoming more and more complete, until it seemed in 
every respect as full and perfect as I had ever seen it. It 
looked down upon me as though with a wonderful expression 
of tenderness and affection. Then it disappeared, not sud- 
denly, but gradually, its features fading and becoming dim and 
indistinct until I saw nothing but the ceiling. I spoke at the 
time of what I saw to my mother, but she made no account of 
it, thinking probably that it was nothing more than a boyish 
vagary. In about fifteen or twenty minutes after seeing the 
vision a boy came running, breathless, to my father's with the 
news that my grandfather had just died. 

" I have never been able to persuade myself that the vision 
was purely subjective. I have rather been inclined to think- 
ing the explanation is to be sought in my grandfather's excep- 

tionally strong love for me, impelling and enabling him to 
bring himself into connection with me at the moment of his 
decease in the way I have stated. It was at Paisley when the 
above occurred. 

" To the best of my recollection this is a correct statement. 
"Colin Campbell McKechnie. 

" Darlington, Sept. 24//;, 1889." 

" To the best of my recollection the boyish vision, if I may 
so call it, occurred in 1830 or 1831. The register of deaths 
kept in the Gaelic chapel of Paisley, if consulted, would enable 
one to fix the date. Grandfather lived in Sneddon Street, and 
his name was John McKechnie. 

" (Signed) Colin McKechnie. 

11 Oct. yd, 1889." 

Mr. McKechnie died in 1896. He had been in the ministry 
about fifty years ; was editor of the Primitive Methodist 
Quarterly Review. 

A ... A lady at Brockley sends me an account of an 

Another . . * , J . . . . . , ., 

Floating apparition she witnessed, which she describes as 
Head. m i nu tely as Mr. McKechnie. It is, however, much 
more horrible : — 

" One Saturday evening last summer, about eight, I was 
alone in the house, with the exception of my two little boys 
(of eight and nine years), who were at that moment in the 
bath. I left them for a minute, and, closing the bath-room 
door, walked along the short corridor to the head of the stairs, 
thinking of the article for which I was going down. I raised 
my eyes and saw to my great surprise a peculiar light about 6 
feet from the stair in the corner, 5 in. or 6 in. above, and 
facing me. My first act was to look in every direction for a 
possible reflection, but in vain. There was no light in the 
house, the meter being turned off; the corner was a very light 
one, with a lofty ceiling. I looked again at the light, watching 
it intently, and in less time than it takes me to write it, I saw 
this light develop into a head and face of yellowish greenish 
light, with a mass of matted hair above it. The face was very 
wide and broad, larger than ours in all respects, very large 
eyes of green, which, not being distinctly outlined, appeared 
to merge into the yellow of the cheeks ; no hair whatever on 
the lower part of the face, and nothing to be seen below. The 
expression of the face was diabolically malignant, and as it 
gazed straight at me my horror was intense as my wonder, but 
I was not nervous in the least ; the thought darted through 
my mind that Gustave Dore' had drawn his originals from such. 


I felt that such an awful thing could only be Satanic, so keep- 
ing my gaze fixed on the thing I said to it, ' In the name of 
Christ, be gone,' and the fiendish thing faded from my sight, 
and has not troubled me since. I am not troubled with liver 
complaint, and never had a bilious attack in my life. I am 
also a member of a temperance association, and generally 
considered strong-minded." 

The Develop- Another lady, resident in Gloucestershire, sends 
mentofa me, under the initials "Y. Z.," an account of a 
phantasm. sm g U | ar experience through which she passed four- 
teen years ago. It describes with greater minuteness than any 
other narrative I have seen of the kind the process of visual- 
ising, or the giving of an apparent objectivity to what there is 
no evidence to prove was other than a purely subjective hallu- 
cination. The following is a copy of the narrative written four- 
teen years ?go immediately after the occurrence took place : — 
It was an autumn afternoon, about six o'clock. I had re- 
turned from a stroll in the garden, and was in my own room, 
sitting on a straight-backed easy chair, leisurely dipping into 
Thackeray's "Vanity Fair," which I had brought upstairs to 
while away the half hour before tea. While turning over the 
pages in search of some favourite passage, I became aware of 
an abnormal and quite indescribable sensation. My chest and 
breathing seemed inwardly oppressed by some ponderous 
weight, while I became conscious of some presence behind 
me, exerting a powerful influence on the forces within. On 
trying to turn my head to see what this could be, I was power- 
less to do so, neither could I lift a hand or move in any way. 
I was not a little alarmed, and began immediately to reason. 
Was it a fainting fit coming on, epilepsy, paralysis, possibly 
even death ? No, the mind was too much alive, though physi- 
cally I felt an absolutely passive instrument operated upon by 
some powerful external agent, as if the current of nerve force 
within seemed forcibly drawn together and focussed on a spot 
in front of me. I gazed motionless, as though through some- 
thing intenser than ordinary eyesight, on what was no longer 
vacant space. There, an oval, misty light was forming ; elon- 
gatory, widening, yes, actually developing into a human face 
and form. Was this hallucination, or some vision of the un- 
seen, coming in so unexpected fashion ? Before me had arisen 
a remarkable figure, never seen before in picture or life — 
dark-skinned, aged, with white beard, the expression intensely 
earnest, the features small, the bald head finely moulded, lofty 
over the forehead, the whole demeanour instinct with solemn 


grace. The hands, too, how unlike any hands I knew, yet 
how expressive ! Dark as the face, hair, long in fingers and 
narrow in palms, the veins like sinews, standing out as they 
moved to and fro in eager gesture. He was speaking to me in 
deep tones, as if in urgent entreaty. What would I not give 
to hear words from such a figure ! But no effort availed me 
to distinguish one articulate sound. I tried to speak, but 
could not. With desperate effort I shook out the words, 
' Speak louder ! * The face grew more intent, the voice louder 
and more emphatic. Was there something amiss in my own 
hearing, then, that I could distinguish no word amid these 
deeply emphasised tones ? Slowly and deliberately the figure 
vanished, through the same stages of indistinctness, back to 
the globular lamp-like whiteness, till it faded to nothingness. 
Before it had quite faded away, the face only of a woman 
arose, indistinct and dim. The same emphatic hum, though 
in a subdued note, the same paralysis of voice and muscle, the 
same strange force, as it were overshadowing me. With the 
disappearance of this second and far less interesting figure, I 
recovered my power of movement, and rose. 

" My first impulse was to look round for the origin of this 
strange force ; my second, to rush to the looking-glass to make 
sure I was myself. There could be no delusion. There I 
was, paler than usual, the forehead bathed in perspiration. I 
sponged my face, and, greatly agitated, walked hurriedly to 
and fro. True, there had been nothing alarming in the appari- 
tion itself, but the sensation preceding had been vivid in the 
extreme. What was it ? Was it night, or had I been in some 
strange sleep ? Certainly not. Was I in my right mind ? I 
believed so. Then if so, and the conditions being the same, 
would it be possible to bring back this strange phenomenon 
that I might know it had really existed, whether subjectively 
or objectively ? Like an inspiration, I determined that if this 
experience had a basis in objective or subjective fact, it might 
certainly recur. I would sit down in the same position, try to 
feel calm, open a book, and remain as positively still and pas- 
sive as I could. To my intense interest, and almost at once, 
the strange sense of some power operating on the nerve forces 
within, followed by the same loss of muscular power, the same 
wide awakeness of the reason, the same drawing out and 
concentrating of the energies on that spot in front, repeated 
itself, this time more deliberately, leaving me freer to take 
mental notes of what was happening. Again arose the same 
noble, earnest figure, gazing at me, the hands moving in 


solemn accompaniment to the deep tones of voice. The same 
painful effort on my part to hear, with no result. The vision 
passed. Again the woman's face, insignificant and meaning- 
less, succeeded it as before. She spoke, but in less emphatic 
tones. It flashed upon me I would hear. After a frantic 
effort, I caught two words — " land," " America " — with posi- 
tively no clue to their meaning. 

" I was wide awake when the apparition first appeared, and 
in a highly excited state of mind on its reappearance." 

I close this chapter by quoting the following 

of a spectre, remarkable description of the gradual formation of 

a spirit face at a private seance, the account of 

which, with the names and addresses of those present, is sent 

me by Mr. Charles Lillie, 249, High Holborn : — 

"Permit me to record an event whereby four people out of a 
party of seven saw what, for the sake of clearness, I may term 
a ghostly visitant. 

"The month was October, the house was in Baysvvater, and 
there were seven people present — Mrs. T, our hostess, a firm 
believer in spiritualism — i.e. a belief in supernatural beings, 
and their ministrations on earth ; Miss T., her daughter, a be- 
liever with reservation ; Miss Muriel T., a believer; and Miss 
W., the governess, also a believer. The rest of the party in- 
cluded Geoffrey T, a young fellow of twenty, a thorough non- 
believer; Captain W., a non-believer, one who had never 
troubled his head about the matter at all ; and myself, open to 
belief, but sceptical. 

" From talking of ghosts, it easily came about that a seance 
should be held, and for that purpose we adjourned to another 
room, where, by Mrs. T.'s wish and stipulation, all the pre- 
scribed formula devised by the spiritualists should be adhered 
to. After the usual knockings and answers we asked if the 
agencies for the sounds could be made visible, and received an 
affirmative reply, desiring at the same time that the fire should 
be quite extinguished, and that we should remain quietly in 
our places and wait. 

" These requests having been complied with, we waited. At 
the end of twenty minutes or half an hour, Miss Thornton 
complained of intense cold. The intermittent rapping on 
the table ceased, and I saw what appeared to be a slightly 
luminous 'something,' oval in shape, rise just behind and 
above Miss Thornton's head. As I conjectured it might be 
some optical illusion on my part, induced by continued 
staring in the dark, I said nothing. The faintly luminous 


cloud had become stationary, and was, or seemed to be, 
gradually contracting while still preserving its oval outline ; 
Captain W. suddenly cried out he saw something that looked 
like a face. Mrs. T. could see nothing, failed to perceive 
anything. Young T. said he saw it, and added that ' it was 
growing plainer.' 

"The curious part of the apparition was this, that not only did 
it look like a hollow-eyed and expressionless mask, but, artisti- 
cally speaking, it was apparently ' lit by a top light,' that is, 
under the brow, the nose and the chin were black shadows, as 
they would be in nature, as there are in paintings or plastic 
heads, 'lit' as mentioned above. Whatever process the 
1 thing ' was undergoing, it was true that it was growing dis- 
tinctly plainer, and just before W. exclaimed, 'It is a woman's 
face,' I had seen two darkly sad eyes gleam from the 
shadow, and a sensitive mouth grow from the darkness that 
enshrouded them. The hair was parted in the middle in 
the old-fashioned way upon a broad, low brow, and round 
the head was a slightly perceptible scintillation of electrical 
light, steely-blue in colour. The face was a dull, luminous 
grey, neither waxen nor flesh-like, but vapoury, and did not 
look tangible. 

"Neither Mrs. T., Miss W., or Miss T. (the latter perhaps 
naturally so) saw any face at all, but the remaining four saw it 
as I have here described. We tried to make it speak, but it 
had only inclined its head in reply to a second question, when 
Miss T. turned round in her chair, and then resuming her 
former position, said, ' I can see nothing ; I am tired and fright- 
ened, mamma,' and I think she became a little hysterical. The 
face was fading away, and though Miss W. at once rose and 
went round to where Miss T. sat, the action did not disturb 
or retard the curious dimness that was creeping across the 
ghostly face. As it had come, so it was going. It gradually grew 
greyer, and the great shadows came beneath the brow where 
the eyes had been, and the darkness grew upon the mouth, 
the faint scintillation had gone, and there was only left re- 
maining the same faint cloud that it had grown from, and that 
in its turn died away, and there was nothing left in the room 
but the darkness." 

Many circumstances have come to my knowledge in the 
course of my investigations, however superficial and tentative 
they may have been, which make me look askance at any pro- 
posal to take part in a spiritualistic seance. In your own 
family circle, when you know the character and antecedents of 


all present, it is possible that no unpleasant consequences may 
follow experiments in table-rapping ; but a general seance 
attended by persons some of whom may be evil livers, reeking 
with vice and stained with crime, should be avoided as a pest- 

There is a great deal in a name, and scientists 
Session. ob J ec t to the use of the term possession. They 
prefer some other word to explain the abdication 
or supersession of the conscious will of the individual by what 
appears to the sufferer and his friends the direct intervention 
of another and an evil intelligence. At the same time, as the 
New Testament has popularised the idea of diabolical posses- 
sion, I shall use the term without in the least wishing to assert 
that the phrase has any claim to scientific accuracy. There 
may not be any devils. There may not be such a thing as 
possession. It may be only a form of mental disease, or it 
may be attributed to hypnotic suggestion. That must be left 
to experts to determine. What I have to do is to chronicle 
the phenomena, not to explain them. Call them hallucina- 
tions, hysteria, hypnotic suggestion, what you please ; they are 
so closely connected with the phenomena of spiritualism that 
it is impossible to ignore them. I therefore give here the re- 
ports of two cases of alleged possession, both, oddly enough, 
occurring in VVurtemberg about fifty years since. The first was 
sent me by a Dutch correspondent, and has not hitherto been 
published in English ; the second I take from William Howitt's 
account of Dr. Kerner's experiences in dealing with occult 

Pfarrer Blumhardt prefixes to his narrative (which 
T g!n M c°ase n ~ nas never keen printed) the following note :— 

"The following paper was, in August, 1884, 
handed over (at their expressed wish) to the Wurtemberg Con- 
sistory, as a confidential communication j but some MS. copies 
of it got into circulation without the knowledge of the under- 
signed. In order to supersede these copies, the paper (with 
various corrections) was lithographed six years later ; but the 
writer does not wish for a more extended circulation, and there- 
fore requests every reader kindly to consider a wish only 
expressed after mature deliberation." 

The date of this note is July 31st, 1850. The substance of 
the narrative is as follows : — 

"G. D., a single woman, in poor circumstances, born in 
or about 181 6, suffered between 1836 and 1838 from a serious 
illness ; which left her in weak health and with a contraction of 


the muscles, so that one leg was shorter than the other, and 
one side higher. Previous to her illness, she had been in 
service with various families, where she had given entire satis- 
faction by her conduct, and she was also known to the clergy- 
man of her village (Dr. Barth, Pf. Blumhardt's predecessor) as 
a sincerely religious woman. In 1840 she went to live with 
her two sisters and a brother, who was nearly blind, on the 
ground floor of a house in her native village of Mottlingen. 
Before long she began to perceive something uncanny about 
the place. 

How it b° an " ^ n tne ver y ^ rst ^J* when saying grace before 
'dinner, she had a sudden seizure, and fell to the 
ground unconscious. Strange noises were heard at night — 
a swishing, trailing sound (Geschliirfe), and one like heavy 
objects being rolled over or thrown about (Gepoller) : these 
were not only heard by all four, but also caused uneasiness to 
the family on the upper floor of the house. G. herself saw 
figures and moving lights which were not visible to the others, 
and sometimes, at night, felt her hands seized and laid forcibly 
one over the other. From that time forward her manner 
became strange and even repellent ; but, as the poor family had 
few friends and acquaintances, it was not much noticed. In 
the autumn of 1841 her nightly visitations had become such a 
trouble to her, that she consulted Pf. Blumhardt, but only in 
such general terms that he was unable to make anything of the 
matter. During the following winter she had a sharp attack of 
erysipelas, during which he sometimes visited her, but was dis- 
couraged from doing so frequently by the inattention and apathy 
— not to say hostility — which she manifested. 

"By April, 1842, the noises, etc., had so in- 
A Hou?e. ed crease d as to be perceptible to the whole neigh- 
bourhood. G. frequently saw the figure of a 
woman who had died in the village two years before — always 
with a dead child in her arms. This figure always stood in 
the same spot, and kept repeating the words, ' I want rest ! ' 
or 'Give me a paper, and I will not come again.' One night 
a light was seen near the door, and, on examination, some 
money and a written paper were found under a loose board ; 
the paper, however, was so soiled with soot as to be illegible. 
About a fortnight later the noise was heard again, and a light 
was seen behind the stove. When search was made, various 
objects were discovered under the floor — money wrapped in 
paper, packets of some kind of powder, bones of birds, etc. 
Their presence was never explained, but they were supposed 


to have been connected with some superstitious rites. At last 
the clergyman induced G. to leave this house, and placed her 
with a relative, where she was kindly cared for ; but it con- 
tinued to be haunted, and the noises only ceased in 1844. 
Before long they began to be heard in G.'s new abode ; and 
she herself became subject to strange convulsive attacks, and 
at last showed all the symptoms of ' possession.' 

" I was already becoming more hopeful when I was told that 
a noise like the tapping of fingers was heard all round G, 
and that at such times she was suddenly struck on the chest, 
and sank backwards ; she was also said to see the same woman 
who had appeared at her former lodgings. She declared the 
latter to be a widow who had died two years previous, and 
who, on her deathbed, had confessed grievous sins to me, and 
had scarcely been able to find peace. I went to the house, 
accompanied by witnesses, and soon heard the unearthly 
sounds. She was lying in bed quite conscious, and without 

Possessed by " Suddenly, something seemed to enter into her, 
a witch's and her whole body began to move. I said a few 
ost * words of prayer, mentioning the name of Jesus. 
Immediately she rolled her eyes, threw out her hands, and spoke 
in a voice that was at once recognised as that of a stranger — 
not only on account of the sound, as of the expression and 
choice of words. The voice cried, ' I cannot endure to hear 
that name ! ' All shuddered. I had never heard anything of 
the kind, and offered a silent prayer for wisdom and discretion. 
At last I ventured to put a few questions, as this. ' Have you 
no rest in the grave ? ' ' No ! ' ' Why not ? ' ' That is the 
reward of my actions ! ' ' Did you not then confess all your 
sins to me?' (I asked her this, assuming that it was the 
woman alluded to above.) ' No — I killed two children and 
buried them in the fields.' ' Do you know of no hope ? Can 
you not pray?' 'No, I cannot.' 'Do you not know Jesus, 
who forgives sins ?' 'I cannot endure to hear that name!' 
' Are you alone ? ' ' No ! ' ' Who is with you ? ' The voice 
replied, hesitating at first, 'The worst of all beings!' The 
conversation went on a little longer ; the speaker accused her- 
self of having practised magic, on which account she was now 
the devil's bondswoman, and said that she had been cast out 
seven times and would not go out again. I asked her if I 
might pray for her (to which she only agreed after some hesi- 
tation), and told her that she must not and should not remain 
in G 's body. She seemed to entreat piteously, and then 


to become defiant \ but I commanded her, in a stern voice, 
to go out — not, however, in the name of Christ, which, for 
a long time, I did not dare to do. G. then struck her hands 
violently on the bed, and the possession seemed to be over. 
Fourteen "This scene was repeated many times, but the 

Devils Cast number of spirits increased, so that as many as 
0ut< fourteen were cast out of her at one time. Those 
present, including the mayor of the village, sometimes received 
knocks and blows, but Blumhardt never felt anything — indeed, 
he heard the demons say, repeatedly, that they were unable to 
touch him on account of his office. It would be tedious to 
follow the record of these scenes, which became more and 
more terrible. One night, when asleep, she felt a burning 
hand seize her neck. Her aunt, who was sleeping with her, 
immediately struck a light, and found that the place was 
blistered, as if from a bad burn. The doctor, calling on the 
following morning, saw the wound, and could offer no explana- 
tion, and it did not heal for weeks. By day and night she re- 
ceived blows from invisible hands, or felt her feet seized when 
descending the stairs or walking along the street, so as to make 
her fall. On the night of July 25th, 1842, after she had lain 
for some time like one dead, over a thousand demons appeared 
to leave her, passing out through the mouth. Blumhardt says 
they went out twelve, fourteen, or twenty-eight at a time, but 
does not explain how this was made clear. After this nothing 
occurred for some weeks ; but worse was to follow. She was 
sorely plagued by demons, especially on Wednesday and 
Friday nights, and her health was being more and more under- 
mined by her sufferings, 
one Thousand "Blumhardt resisted the temptation to make use 

and sixty- of any of the charms or ' sympathetic ' remedies 
seven Demons. curren t among the peasantry, although he seems 
quite willing to believe in their efficacy, convinced that he 
would only be invoking the aid of Satan against himself, and 
confined himself to prayer. He found that he was always able 
to give relief in this way, but only after great suffering on the 
part of the patient, and the attacks were always renewed in his 
absence. He tried the effect of prayer without visiting the 
patient, and was successful. The demons, who on one 
occasion gave their number as 1,067, frequently made detailed 
communications, and sometimes spoke French and Italian 
or unknown languages — always through the mouth of G. 
After being cast out, they remained in the room for some time, 
visible to the patient, but to no one else. One, who seemed 



to be the principal, appeared to her in strangely rich garments 
of some ancient fashion, and always carried a large book. At 
length they were all cast out, some (according to their own 
assertions), having been delivered by prayer from the power 
of the devil {i.e. from the state of servitude in which he com- 
pelled them to work evil to the living), and assigned a place of 
rest till the Day of Judgment ; others being in a state of utter 
despair. Among the first-named was the woman with the dead 
child : she was allowed at her entreaty to haunt the church, and 
was subsequently seen there by G. D., but by no one else. 
Blumhardt is of opinion that these people had, when living, 
brought themselves under the devil's power, either by wilful 
sin, or by trafficking in what is known as white magic (which, 
as a matter of fact, is still largely practised in out-of-the-way 
parts of rural Germany), i.e. charms, amulets, so-called ' sym- 
pathetic ' cures, fortune-telling, finding of lost property, etc. 

"By February 8th, 1843, the last demon was ex- 
A Eaith°q n uake a . n pelled. On that day, the patient lay for some 
hours unconscious, and afterwards related that she 
had appeared to be transported to a strange country (which, 
from the description given, appeared to be the West Indies), 
where she witnessed a terrible earthquake, and saw many of 
the spirits who had been tormenting her cast into the crater 
of a volcano — among them the one with the book, who 
had seemed to be the chief. A few days later arrived the 
news of the great earthquake of that date in the West Indies. 

" Subsequently occurred a series of symptoms 
Phe h n?mena. familiar to those who have read the accounts of 
the old witch trials — vomiting of sand, pieces of 
glass, nails, etc., even shoe-buckles, and, at a later date, live 
grasshoppers, a frog, and a snake. Pins, needles, and knitting- 
needles, were drawn out of various parts of the body. Pfarrer 
Blumhardt assures us that he frequently extracted them himself, 
and felt them gradually working to the surface. The worst 
case was the extraction (described in detail) of two nails — one 
a large bent one — from her head, accompanied by violent 
bleeding from the nose, ears, and eyes. This phenomenon he 
explains thus : " Supposing matter to consist — as some philo- 
sophers have supposed— of an aggregate of atoms, we might 
conceive it possible by supernatural (i.e., demoniac) power, so 
to destroy cohesion, and reduce any given object to its com- 
pound atoms. It could then be administered in a person's 
food, or otherwise introduced into his body, and thus — the 
atoms having resumed their former shape — cause suffering and 


injury." G. asserted that she had sometimes noticed a strange 
taste in her food, and at others, had seen various persons 
standing by her bed at night, who either touched her or put 
something like bread into her mouth, whereupon she ex- 
perienced unaccustomed sensations, as if some foreign sub- 
stance had been introduced into her system. It seemed as if 
the spirits had determined, having been cast out of her, to 
destroy her life ; but in this, in spite of many attempts, they 
could not succeed. Sometimes, quite unconsciously, she at- 
tempted to commit suicide, but was almost miraculously saved. 
Her complete recovery took place about Christmas, 1843, but 
was preceded by another terrible struggle, which affected her 
brother and sister (especially the latter) as well as herself. 
Both, however, were eventually restored. 

7 "It may seem hard to understand why a Chris- 

tian woman, whose character and reputation were 
without reproach, should become a victim to such persecution 
as this. Pfarrar Blumhardt suggests, in answer, that she had 
when a child, unconsciously come in contact with the powers 
of darkness, through staying with a relative, who was reputed 
a witch and was undoubtedly a person of bad character ; and 
who, moreover, openly expressed her intention of teaching her 
magic arts, so soon as she should be ten years old. This 
woman died when the child was eight, but it would seem as if 
the devil had looked upon her as a destined victim, and felt 
himself baulked of his prey. Pf. Blumhardt adds in conclu- 
sion that she was then (July, 1850), living in his house, not so 
much as a servant, as the trusted and valued friend of the 
whole family." 

The following is a summary of William Howitt's 
Th OiSi d . ° f account of this most remarkable of all Dr. Kerner's 
experiences : — 
" In the small village of Orlach, in Wurtemburg, there lived 
a peasant named Grombach, a Lutheran Protestant, God- 
fearing man, much respected by his neighbours. In February, 
183 1, strange things began to happen in his cow-house. One 
of the cows was several times found fastened to a different part 
of the house than that to which it had been secured on the 
previous evening. Suddenly the three cows' tails would be 
plaited as if by a skilled weaver, this sometimes happening 
three or four times during the day. Though a strict watch 
was kept, no human agency could be traced. Grombach's 
daughter, Magdalene, when sitting in the cow-house, received 
a box on the ear which was so violent as to send her cap 


flying against the wall. Similar occurrences happened through- 
out the year. On the 8th of February, 1832, while the cow- 
house was being cleaned out, a fire was suddenly observed to 
be burning within it. It was extinguished, but burst forth 
again on the 9th, 10th, and nth. As it was thought they 
had been ignited by evilly-disposed persons, the police placed 
watchers within the house day and night ; still the fires con- 
tinued, but no cause could be found, although the cottage was 
cleared of all its furniture. A few days later on, entering the 
house, Magdalene heard the whimpering of a child, but could 
find none. 

" At half-past eight on the same day she saw a 
T Gui?ty Nu°n f . a shadowy grey figure of a woman on a wall behind 
the cow-house, who beckoned to her. An hour 
later the figure again appeared to her and said : ' Remove the 
house, remove the house. If it be not removed before the 5th 
of March of next year a misfortune will befall you.' She said 
the fires had been caused by an evil spirit, but that she had 
protected them. Her father and brother were present, saw 
Magdalene talking, but could not see the spirit. After this 
the spirit appeared to her frequently. It told Magdalene, on 
being questioned, that it was called Anna Maria, and had, 400 
years before, been put into a convent against her will when 
fourteen years old, and had been guilty of sin, which she 
could not reveal. The ghost always spoke in a religious 
manner, using texts and usually praying the 112th Psalm. She 
appeared to be able to read the girl's thoughts before she ex- 
pressed them. She frequently foretold events which were 
about to occur. 

" This continued from February till May, when 
Th | S!t Ck tne s P' r * t tol( * Ma gdalene that she would not be 
able to present herself for some lime, that Magda- 
lene would be persecuted by the Black Spirit, her evil com- 
panion, but that she must never answer him. From this time 
she saw spirits in various shapes, such as frogs, a black cat, 
dogs, and a black horse without a head, also men's voices 
following with scornful laughter. Then the Black Spirit ap- 
peared to her in a dress like that of a monk. He usually 
appeared in the hayfield and tempted her by all sorts of 
questions to answer him. He also imitated the voices of her 
neighbours ; but all in vain. One day he appeared to her no 
fewer than three times, always laughing contemptuously. 
About this time Magdalene discovered a bag of coins in the 
cow-house. It was inexplicable how they had come there j but 


the Black Spirit appeared and told her he had given them to 
her for the box on the ear which he gave her in the cow- 

" The White Spirit, however, appeared in the 
Th sp]rit! te evening, and said that the money must not be used 
but given to the poor, which it accordingly was. 
On July the 15th the Black Spirit appeared in the form of a 
bear and threatened her that if she would not answer him he 
would plague her. From this time the Black Spirit appeared 
in the shape of some hideous animal, promising her in turn 
money and then threatening her with torture. On August the 
2 1 st the Spirit appeared to her as an animal with its neck in 
the middle of its body ; she fell in a swoon, crying, ( The Black 
One ! ' She remained unconscious for several hours, and had 
similar attacks the succeeding day. She could answer to all 
questions put to her, but when she came out of the trance 
remembered nothing of them. On coming out of her trance 
she related that the Black Spirit had flown upon her and 
endeavoured to throttle her unless she would answer him. At 
that moment the White Spirit appeared and the Black One 
vanished. On the 23rd of August the White Spirit appeared 
to her and promised to protect her from harm, and said further 
that her sufferings would have an end on March 5 th the next 
year. On other occasions the White Spirit told her that the 
Black Spirit would get entire possession of her body, but when 
she fell into this condition the White Spirit would take her 
soul to a place of safety. Magdalene's father now began to 
pull down the house and build a new one. 

11 From August 25 th her struggles with the Black 
T pos^etsion.° f Spirit gradually became more violent, and he 
entered her body and spoke out of her mouth. 
She gave the following account of the process by which the 
demon took possession of her. In the midst of her work she 
would see a figure of a man clothed in a monk's frock, which 
seemed to be made from black mist, approach and say, when 
she refused to answer his questions : ' Now I will enter thy 
body in spite of thee.' Then she always felt him tread on her 
left side, seize her with five cold fingers at the back of the 
neck and then enter her body. She lost consciousness and 
individuality. Her voice was no longer her own, but that of 
the monk's. The speeches which she uttered when in this 
state were worthy of a demon. Magdalene lay during the 
whole time with her head sunk towards her left side, and her 
eyes firmly closed; if the eyelids were raised the pupils would 


be discovered upwards. The left foot constantly moved up 
and down upon the ground throughout the attack, which 
frequently lasted four or five hours. The boards would be 
rubbed smooth by the friction of the bare foot, which remained 
as cold as ice. On her awaking she felt nothing the matter 
with her foot, and could walk miles, and she had no recollec- 
tion of what occurred. Her right foot remained warm. In 
awakening a struggle seemed to take place between the right 
and the left side. The head would move itself from right to 
left until it fell on the right side, when the spirit departed. 
Usually she had a faint recollection of having been to church, 
which was attributed to the White Spirit's promised protection. 
If a Bible were held near the girl's body the Black Spirit would 
try to spit upon it, and hissed like a serpent. The doctors re- 
garded her condition a natural sickness, but Dr. Kerner, who 
observed her in his own house for some weeks, was convinced 
that it was demoniac possession. When he made magnetic 
passes over Magdalene, the demon at once neutralised them 
by making counter passes with the girl's hands. Crowds of 
people flocked to Orlach to see and hear Magdalene when in 
her paroxysms. 

" On March the 4th, at six in the morning, the 
T the S Nun ° f White Spirit appeared to her in dazzling brightness. 
She confessed to Magdalene that she had been 
seduced by a monk, the Black Spirit, who had been guilty of 
fearful crimes ; had lived some years with him, and on partially 
betraying his wickedness had been murdered by him. The 
spirit then stretched out her hand towards the girl, who touched 
it with a handkerchief, which sparkled, and was found after- 
wards with a large hole for the palm of the hand and five 
smaller for the fingers and thumb of the spirit whose hand it 
had touched. The White Spirit bade her farewell, saying she 
was free from earthly things. While the spirit was speaking 
with Magdalene, a black dog seemed to spit fire against her, 
but did not touch her. Magdalene, who was in a part of the 
old house which was rapidly disappearing, was carried to a 
neighbouring farmer's, where the Black Spirit appeared to her 
and took possession of her body. He had a white tuft or 
tassel upon his head, and was not entirely black as heretofore. 
Magdalene tasted no food from Sunday night until Tuesday at 
noon, being incessantly possessed by the spirit. An immense 
multitude had gathered to witness the spectacle and questioned 
the demon, who answered correctly concerning places of in- 
terest in the neighbouring locality. 


Deliverance " ^ ni S^ lt tne demon prayed, and was able to 
speak the words Jesus, Bible, Heaven, and the 
Church, which he had been unable to do before. He made a 
full confession of his crimes and said, ' My belief was that it 
was with men even as with the beast when it is slain ; but 
it is quite different ; there comes the reckoning after death.' 
He also said he must appear before the judgment seat a 
second time, when he left the girl. At half-past eleven in the 
morning the workmen came upon the last part of the wall of 
the house, which was of very ancient construction, and as soon 
as this was destroyed the demon departed from Magdalene. 
'The transformation,' says an eye-witness, 'was astounding, 
from the disfigured demoniac countenance to a purely human, 
cheerful one ; from the hollow, repellent voice of the evil spirit 
to its accustomed sounds, and from the partially paralysed, 
partially restless, possessed body to a beautiful, healthful 
young form. Magdalene was never again troubled with ap- 
paritions, and enjoyed perfect health. In removing the rubbish 
from the house a deep hole was discovered in which were 
found some brown bones, some of them those of children, 
probably the remains of the monk's wickedness, whose murders 
he had fully confessed." 



"Shapes upon the dark without 
From the dark within, a guess 
At the spirit's deathlessness." — Lowell. 

THE character of ghosts has been seriously impeached of 
late by the committee of the Psychical Research Society. 
The time-honoured old ghost was a severely practical entity. 
He came to haunt the evil-doer, to reveal hidden crimes, to 
vindicate injured innocence, to reveal lost wills, and in various 
other ways to do work which flesh-and- blood mortals had failed 
to accomplish. But the report of the Psychical Society on the 
modern ghost contains as its fourth article, " There is a total 
absence of any apparent object or intelligent action on the 
part of ghosts." This is unjust, and I now proceed to adduce 
some evidence that may tend to rebut this unsparing impeach- 
ment, and as a beginning I will cite the story of my reporter, 
which I will take next in my Census of Hallucinations. 

This story comes home to me because I have always had an 
uneasy kind of conviction that if all had their due this par- 
ticular ghost would, occasionally at least, haunt me. It is a 
story of the ghost of a man who seems to have been unjustly 
hanged for a murder which he did not commit, and as I, 
quite innocently, helped indirectly to consummate this judicial 
murder, it would not have been surprising if the ghost had paid 
me a visit once in a way. But the deceased was not of a high 
order of intelligence during his life, and possibly enough was 
totally unaware that I had any responsibility, however remote, 
in his hanging. 

The way in which I came into it was very simple. Several 
years ago I found myself confronted by a series of atrocious 
murders which were committed in horrible sequence by the 
Irish factions in England. It was a difficult matter to discover 
the murderers, and when they were discovered the strong 
repugnance of many excellent persons to the taking of human 
life led to such earnest and successful attempts to secure a 


commutation of sentence that a murderer's chance of the 
gallows was comparatively remote. When these murders in- 
creased and multiplied, I came to the conclusion that the 
petitions to the Home Secretary had gone too far. " Abolish 
capital punishment if you will, make a Court of Criminal 
Appeal if you like, but do not let us have the Home Secretary 
perpetually commuting judicial sentences on the more or less 
spasmodic representations of benevolent persons who are 
dominated by a passionate hatred of the death penalty." So 
I wrote with such vehemence as I had at command. I think 
I succeeded in somewhat damping down local zeal for sparing 
the lives of convicted murderers, and so became indirectly 
responsible to some small extent for the hanging against which 
the ghost of this man came back to protest. I may say that, 
although for the sake of the relatives of the man in question I 
must suppress all names and addresses, I am fully aware of all 
tbj circumstances of the case so far as they concern persons of 
flesh and blood. The evidence as to the ghostly visitant rests 
upon the statement, which I proceed to quote, of a thoroughly 
competent and absolutely trustworthy friend of mine, who is a 
reporter and newspaper correspondent in his district of many 
of the first dailies in the land. I have known him for years as 
a friend and colleague, and I know few men whose veracity is 
more unimpeachable and whose conscientiousness in observing 
and recording facts is more sensitive. I print his statement 
exactly as he wrote it out for me. He first told it me in the 
autumn of 1880, that is to say within little more than twelve 
months of the occurrence, and I shall never forget the impres- 
sion which the narrative produced on my mind. There was 
something very pathetic in the thought of the poor ghost 
wandering round the scene of the crime for which he had 
been wrongfully executed, in order to proclaim that God 
judgeth not as man judges, and that he was innocent of the 
blood of the murdered man j and I felt it all the more from a 
lurking suspicion that if I had not been so hard upon the 
people who got up petitions to the Home Secretary, he might 
have escaped the hanging, against which he made so solemn 
and persistent a protest. 

" In the summer of 1879 a lady of my acquaint- 
My lto?y! er ' 3 ance ' wno nac *> as occasion served, paid some 
attention to the subject of spiritualism, as I was 
also known to have done, told me that she had been brought 
into contact with a medium in a distant town. She was 
desirous of further testing his powers, if arrangements could 


be made for his calling at the town where she and I resided. 
I replied that I should be very happy to put the gentleman up 
for two or three days, as the lady could not do so. I heard 
nothing further of the matter until I received a letter from the 
lady stating that the medium, whom I will denominate A., 
would call on me on such a day. He duly arrived. I found 
him a pleasant and fairly intelligent young man, with whose 
frankness and demeanour I and my family circle (which had 
at that time been enlarged by two ladies, relatives of my wife) 
were well pleased. A. had not been in the house more than 
half an hour when he said he clairvoyantly saw by the side of 
one of the ladies a gentleman, deceased (a spirit), whom he 
described, and who told him that he wished to speak to the 
lady about Susan. The lady in question recognised the de- 
scription of the 'spirit ' as that of her father, while Susan was 
the name of her sister, of whom I had never heard, who had 
been deceased for a long period. Whilst sitting at supper in 
the evening, A. described a former servant of my family who 
had died ten years before, after having left us and got married. 
He described the room in which she died, even to a peculiar 
picture on the wall, by which hangs a tale which I cannot take 
up your space to narrate, but which was a most striking 
instance of clairvoyant powers. He also remarked that the 
said servant's spirit asked after her son, giving her son's name ; 
said she exhibited before him a green dress which I had given 
her before she was married from my house (perfectly true), and 
many other minute and trustworthy tests, showing that some 
peculiar abnormal power enabled him to read the circumstances 
and surroundings of our past domestic life of many years before. 
All this, I will premise, was given spontaneously. Nobody 
was 'pumped ' or questioned to obtain a clue on which to base 
these strange revelations of the past. But I am reminded that 
I must not be too diffuse, as these matters, however clear and 
satisfactory they might have been to those who heard them, 
pale in interest before the somewhat apparently sensational 
but perfectly true and strange story which it was my purpose 
in writing this notice to relate. 

11 During the time that A. was with me — three or 
Appldtion. four days — as we were sitting one morning in the 
breakfast room, there passed through a woman who 
occasionally came to the house in the capacity of charwoman. 
The woman did not linger at all in the room ; she merely 
passed through to the kitchen in the rear of the house. 
Almost immediately afterwards A. remarked, ' I felt a singula.r 


influence as that woman passed through, and was compelled to 
look up. There was a spirit of a man accompanying her who 
said in my hearing, " God judgeth not as man judgeth." And 
he (the spirit) further went on to say that he had suffered 
capital punishment for the crime of murder, but that, although 
mixed up with the party who dealt the blow which led to the 
death of the man who received it, he (the spirit) was not the 
one who struck the blow.' I was naturally interested in this 
statement, having been aware of all the circumstances of the 
murder alluded to, which had occurred a few years previously, 
and having felt great sympathy for the widow (the woman who 
passed through the breakfast room) and the family of the man 
who was hung, as they — and also he, as far as I had ever heard 
— were highly respectable and honest working-class people. 
Some time afterwards A. again said that the ' spirit ' was still 
about there, and described him exactly as I had known him in 
life, repeating the previous statement that the ' spirit ' declared 
that he was not guilty of the crime, not being the person who 
gave the death-blow, but admitting that he was morally guilty 
in leaguing himself with those who sought to accomplish the 
injury, or possibly death, of a person against whom they — a 
band of factious Irishmen — had some ill will. 

Th m rd r " * ^ ave sa ^ * was mterestec * m A -' s statement. 
Ordinarily I should have simply passed the matter 
over as an exhibition of ordinary mediumship, or seership, or 
clairvoyance, no more striking in itself than that relating to 
the circumstances first detailed as affecting my family surround- 
ings. When, however, the information was vouchsafed that 
the young Irishman who was hung was not guilty of the crime, 
there was brought to my mind a matter told me by a friend 
on whom I could implicitly rely, a year or two before. This 
gentleman, who held a responsible and somewhat public posi- 
tion, was not, I may remark, living in the town when the 
murder was committed, and one day in the course of conversa- 
tion, asked me respecting it. I gave him an outline of the 
circumstances, which were fresh in my memory, and, being 
somewhat surprised at the interest he took in the matter, asked 
his reason. He replied that he was a particular friend — which 
I knew, though not himself a Catholic — of the leading Catho- 
lic priest in the town — a man, by the way, well known as most 
estimable, clear-headed, and intelligent, who comes of a good 
family, and now holds a somewhat exalted position in his 
Church — and that this priest had on one occasion told him 
that the man who was executed was not the real murderer. 


Said my friend : ' He (the priest) spoke to me in the most 
decided and remarkably impressive way. He looked at me 
very pointedly, and remarked with great emphasis, " I know 
that the man who was executed for the crime never committed 
that murder."' My friend added, 'The impression made 
upon me was that the priest had had the confession of the 
real murderer.' In addition to this statement of the priest, I 
may remark that the criminal died asseverating his innocence 
to the last, and that his neighbours and friends — the Irish, who 
are, as is well known, very clannish, and ordinarily know more 
than they tell — never believed him guilty, or at least so they 
always said. Having attentively considered the evidence at 
the trial, I had believed the man to be guilty. At the same 
time I have had a good deal of experience as to the looseness 
of evidence in general, and the way in which persons can be 
deceived in a matter of identity \ in fact, one has been often 
deceived oneself. In the case in point the murder, or attack 
— possibly murder was not premeditated, only a minor exhibi- 
tion of bad blood and violence — took place at night. That it 
was concerted there was no doubt. Two rather rough-looking 
young fellows — not, I think, out of their teens, and certainly 
not over-intelligent — were looking on at a street corner, on the 
opposite side of the road, by the aid of gaslight at the time. 
The murdered man was suddenly surrounded by half a dozen 
others, and the blow which felled him, and which ultimately 
was the cause of his death, was administered, they stated, by 
the young man who suffered for the capital crime. It must be 
considered that it was night, that there was a sort of scuffle 
with many men, and, therefore, that these two onlookers might 
possibly, under such circumstances, have been mistaken. I 
believe they honestly gave their evidence, but they were evidently 
ignorant, uncultivated, and of a somewhat low type — people of 
such a mould as one would not ordinarily care to entrust with 
the issues of life and death, even on their oath. Still, they 
were consistent and clear in their evidence. They supported 
each other, the jury convicted, the judge passed sentence, and 
the hangman did his work, on the strength of their testimony. 
"But possibly I am digressing by making this 
by h a d Ghost. explanation before I have told the whole of my 
story of A.'s mediumistic powers. I kept all these 
circumstances that I have mentioned from him, except that 
the charwoman's husband had suffered capital punishment, as 
he had stated, desiring to test his powers to the utmost, and 
obtain, if possible, further information from the 'spirit' of the 


so-called murderer as to the truth of the statement now so 
curiously made, and confirmed on the authority of the Roman 
Catholic priest, viz., that the wrong man had been hanged. 
Accordingly I remarked to A. that later on in the day we 
should be going into the town (I lived in the suburbs some 
way out), and that we should be passing the place where the 
murder was committed, when possibly the ' spirit ' might tell 
him something more about the matter, and show him the spot 
where the crime took place. Some time afterwards we started 
for the town. When we left the house A. remarked, ' There 
he is following us,' alluding to the 'spirit.' When we had pro- 
ceeded part of the way along the road, which was quite 
unknown to A., being a stranger, I made a detour for the pur- 
pose of making a business call, passing into a side street, A. 
following me. Just as, without a word on my part, we were 
turning out of the main road, Mr. A. said, ' The spirit is stand- 
ing at the corner. He says we are not going the right way 
towards the place where the murder was committed, and which 
he has promised to point out to me.' I replied, ■ Oh, we shall 
come out into the right road again by-and-by before we reach 
the spot.' We proceeded on about a quarter of a mile, and 
having done my business and struck the right road again, 
which differed, I may remark, from none of the other roads we 
had traversed, Mr. A. soon after declared, ' There is that man, 
the spirit, just on there, waiting for us.' As we continued our 
walk I purposely refrained from uttering a word or even from 
thinking as far as I could about the murder, so as to prevent 
any possibility of my companion obtaining any clue. 

"As we were passing through the lowest parts 
o1theM S u C r e der. of the town > Mr - A - suddenly exclaimed, ' He tells 
me that it was here the murder was committed. 
It was just there ' (pointing to the place in the road where the 
murdered man fell). 'I see the hubbub and confusion rise 
before me as a picture, with the people round. He, however, 
again tells me that he did not strike the fatal blow. He does 
not excuse himself from being morally guilty, as being mixed 
up with those who accomplished the death of the man, but 
strongly maintains that he was not the murderer.' I will only 
add in relation to the last incident, that Mr. A. described the 
exact spot where the murder was committed, and the circum- 
stances in connection therewith. How can this be accounted 
for ? Mr. A. had never been in the town before ; he had never 
lived within a couple of hundred miles of it ; he did not know 
till within a day or two before that he would ever visit it ; he 


could not by any possibility have known that the poor woman 
in my employ, coming casually into my house that morning, 
was the widow of a man who was hanged. Then he had no 
conceivable interest in deceiving me, nor was he concerned to 
prosecute the matter any farther. But it might be objected 
that A. had heard of the murder, which, of course, received con- 
siderable publicity at the time, and came fully primed with it. 
But even supposing that he had got to know some of these 
facts, how could he know that there was any particular value 
attaching to the asseveration of the innocence of the man who 
suffered capital punishment, when nobody believed it except 
a few of the ignorant neighbours of the deceased man and the 
Catholic priest, who had really kept the matter quiet, and who, 
no doubt, had received the confession of the real murderer. 
Then, again, how could he get to know the identity of the 
widow coming unexpectedly into my house that morning. 
Personally, I was as anxious as any one could be to prevent 
any fraud on the part of the medium. The declarations he 
made respecting it came to me as a surprise, and I purposely 
did everything possible to test its genuineness, and satisfied 
myself that it was all spontaneous and genuine." 

It is a very curious story, and one which, so far as it goes, 
helps to deliver the ghosts of to-day from the sweeping accusa- 
tions brought against them of total lack of any apparent object 
or of intelligent action. 

A short time ago, when I was making up our 
"°™d\ G Li°fe! census, a journalistic friend of high standing and 
reputation, whom I had met abroad, paid me a 
visit. When I asked him if he had ever seen a ghost, he 
replied, with unusual gravity, that a ghost had one time saved 
his life, and that he never spoke lightly on the subject. His 
story, which he told me with evident emotion and intense con- 
viction, was remarkable, even if, as is probable, we should 
regard the apparition as purely subjective : — 

" It was many years ago," he said, " when I was younger, 
and when the temptations of youth had not yet become memories 
of the past. I was alone in a country hotel, and one night I 
had decided to carry out a project which I still remember with 
shame. At ten o'clock I retired to my room to wait till the 
hotel was quiet, in order to carry out my design and enter an 
adjoining room chamber. I lay in my bed watching the 
moonlight which flooded the room, counting the moments till 
all was still. After I had lain there for some time, I was 
conscious of a presence in the room, and looking towards the 


window I saw the familiar form of the woman whose death 
three years before had darkened my existence. I had loved 
her with my whole soul, as I had never loved any one before. 
She was my ideal of womanhood, my whole life had been 
entwined with hers, and her death was the cruellest blow 
ever dealt me by Fate. In the three years that had elapsed 
since her death I had striven to escape from the gnawing 
agony of the memory of my loss in scenes where she would 
least have sought me. Time, travel, dissipation had so dulled 
my pain that of late I had never thought of her, nor was I 
thinking of her when, suddenly, I saw her standing by the 
window. Her face was . in the shadow, but there was no 
mistaking that queenly figure, those stately shoulders, and the 
familiar dress. She wore no hat or bonnet, but was as she 
had been when in her own drawing-room, thousands of miles 
away. She was standing in the moonlight, looking at me. 
Then she slowly moved towards me, and approached the bed- 
side, fixing her gaze full on my face. Then, without saying a 
word, she vanished. I had lain, as it were, paralysed until 
she vanished, and I was once more alone. The passion of 
remorse obliterated in a moment the formerly imperious temp- 
tation. I no more thought of my design. It was as if the 
very thought of evil had been absolutely wiped out. I was 
overwhelmed with the thought of her, and abased. Remem- 
bering at what moment she had revisited me, I wept like a 
child, bitter, passionate tears of repentance, until from sheer 
exhaustion I fell asleep. I had no more doubt of the reality, 
the objective reality, of my visitor than I have of the objective 
reality of yourself or any one else whom I may meet in the 
street. This conviction was deepened when, on the following 
day, I learned to my surprise that if I had carried out my 
design and had entered the next room, I should have been 
knifed on the spot. In the chamber I had intended to enter 
was a reckless young bravo, who would have certainly had no 
more compunction in planting his stiletto in the heart of any 
unarmed intruder than you would of killing a rat. Between 
me, therefore, that night, and a bloody and shameful death, 
there was but an unlocked door and the watchful love of one 
who, in this simple but supernatural way, intervened to save 
me from myself and the doom that otherwise would have 
overtaken me." 

Now even if we suppose that this phantasm was visualised 
subjectively by the unconscious personality, the faculty of the 
unconscious personality to give a mere subjective memory such 


vivid and real apparent objectivity just at the critical moment, 

is a very interesting and suggestive fact. 

The Catholic Church abounds in ghost stories, 

Some Catho- in which the ghost has a practical object for re- 
lic Ghost ... - ° . . „ . l „ . J . , . 

stories. visiting the world, rather Keating told me last 
September that when he was at the College of the 
Propaganda at Rome, a Danish student died. He had been 
in the habit of writing out his confessions before he went to 
confessional. A short while after the student's death his con- 
fessor heard a knock at the door. He said, " Come in." The 
door opened, and the young Danish student entered the room. 
Although the priest knew he was dead, he was not frightened, 
and asked him what he wanted. 

He said, " Will you look in my Latin dictionary ? You will 
find there a paper on which I wrote down my last confession 
which I wished to make to you, but I was taken off before I 
saw you." 

The priest asked him if he was happy. 

" Yes," said he, "quite happy. That confession is the only 
thing that is troubling me. Will you get it?" The priest 
said he would, and the interview ended. 

He then went to the dictionary, and there, between the 
pages, he found the written confession. He read it, and then 
destroyed it. The young student never afterwards appeared. 

I hope to get confirmation of this from Rome, but as yet I 
have not received any reply to my inquiries, the person con- 
cerned being absent on his travels. 

Father Keating also told me a story of a priest, whom he 
said he knew, who had entered the priesthood because of a 
ghost which appeared to him in an old country house. He 
followed this ghost to the room which it haunted. It pointed 
to a place in the floor and disappeared; they took up the 
floor, and found the sacred vessels which had been hidden there 
since the time of the Reformation, and which still contained 
some of the Host or sacred wafer. The vessels were removed 
and the ghost ceased to haunt. This story also needs verifica- 
tion, and until it is forthcoming it cannot be regarded as having 
any evidential value. 

Another Catholic legend is the familiar story of the per- 
sistent haunting of the library at Slindon, Arundel, by the 
ghost of a Catholic priest. The story goes that he had for- 
gotten to destroy the confession of a penitent. He had placed 
it between the leaves of the book he was reading. Sudden 
death deprived him of the opportunity of destroying the 


paper, and he was unable to rest in his grave until he found 
it and got some one to destroy it. Every night he revisited 
the library and hunted for the confession. At last a Catholic 
priest saw him and asked him what was the matter. He told 
him eagerly, and pointed out the book, in which the confession 
was found. He destroyed it at once, and the grateful spirit 
disappeared. Such is the local tradition, which, however, has 
never been verified so far as I can discover, but the same story 
is told of a library near Paris, where, oddly enough, Bishop 
Wilberforce is said to have been the liberating agent. 

There is an odd story told by a Catholic priest in 

WfeSdto the " Proceedings of the Psychical Society," which 

Debts 8 seems t0 show that considerations of £ s. d. are 

not altogether forgotten on the other side of the 

grave. It is as follows : — 

"In July, 1838, I left Edinburgh to take charge of the 
Perthshire missions. On my arrival in Perth I was called 
upon by a Presbyterian woman, Anne Simpson, who for more 
than a week had been in the utmost anxiety to see a priest. 
This woman stated that a woman lately dead (date not given), 
named Moloy, slightly known to Anne Simpson, had ap- 
peared to her during the night for several nights, urging her 
to go to the priest, who would pay a sum of money, three and 
tenpence, which the deceased owed to a person not specified. 

" I made inquiries, and found that a woman of that name had 
died, who had acted as washerwoman and followed the regi- 
ment. Following up the inquiry, I found a grocer with 
whom she had dealt, and on asking him if a female named 
Moloy owed him anything, he turned up his books and told 
me that she did owe him three and tenpence. I paid the 
sum. Subsequently the Presbyterian woman came to me, 
saying that she was no more troubled." 

The " Proceedings of the Psychical Society " 

Another that . • , • ? , . \ , J 

wished to contains several instances in which ghosts appear 

character w ^ an ob J ect - One °f lne most detailed and 
curious of these is the apparition of Robert 
Mackenzie. His employer tells it as follows : — 

"In 1862 I settled in London, and have never been in 
Glasgow since. Robert Mackenzie and my workmen gene- 
rally gradually lost their individuality in my recollection. I 
dreamt that I was seated at a desk engaged in a business 
conversation with an unknown gentleman, who stood on my 
right hand. Towards me in front advanced Robert Mac- 
kenzie, and feeling annoyed, I addressed him with some 


asperity, asking him if he did not see that I was engaged. 
He retired a short distance with exceeding reluctance, turned 
again to approach me, as if more desirous for an immediate 
colloquy, when I spoke to him still more sharply as to his 
want of manners. On this the person with whom I was con- 
versing took his leave, and Mackenzie once more came 
forward. ' What is all this, Robert ? ' I asked somewhat 
angrily. ' Did you not see that I was engaged ? ' ' Yes, 
sir,' he replied, ' but I must speak with you at once.' ' What 
about?' I said. 'What is it that can be so important?' 'I 
wish to tell you, sir,' he said, ' that I am accused of doing a 
thing I did not do, and that I want you to know it, and to 
tell you so, and that you are to forgive me, because I am 
innocent.' Then, ' I did not do the thing they said I did.' 
I said, 'What?' getting the same answer. I then naturally 
asked, 'But how can I forgive you if you do not tell me what you 
are accused of?' I can never forget the emphatic manner of 
his answer in the Scotch dialect, i Ye'll sune, sune ken " (You'll 
soon know). This question and answer were repeated at 
least twice. I am certain the answer was repeated thrice in 
the most fervid tone. On that I awoke and was in that state 
of bewilderment and surprise which such a remarkable dream 
might induce, and was wondering what it all meant, when my 
wife burst into my bedroom much excited, and holding an 
open letter in her hand, exclaimed, ' Oh, James, here's a 
terrible end to the workmen's ball : Robert Mackenzie has 
committed suicide ! ' With now a full conviction of the mean- 
ing of the vision, I at once quietly and firmly said, ' No, he 
has not committed suicide.' ' How can you possibly know 
that ? ' ' Because he has just been here to tell me.' 

" I have purposely not mentioned in its proper place, so as 
not to break the narrative, that on looking at Mackenzie I 
was struck by the peculiar appearance of his countenance. 
It was of an indescribable bluish-pale colour, and on his fore- 
head appeared spots which seemed like blots of sweat. For 
this I could not account, but by the following post my 
manager informed me that he was wrong in writing to me 
of suicide. That, on Saturday night, Mackenzie was going 
home, had lifted a small black bottle containing aquafortis 
(which he used for staining the wood of bird-cages, made for 
amusement), believing this to be whisky, and poured out a 
wineglassful, had drunk it off at a gulp, dying on Sunday in 
great agony. Here, then, was the solution of his being inno- 
cent of what he was accused of — suicide — seeing that he had 


inadvertently drunk aquafortis, a deadly poison. Still, pon- 
dering upon the peculiar colour of his countenance, it struck 
me to consult some authorities on the symptoms of poisoning 
by aquafortis, and in Mr. J. H. Walsh's ' Domestic Medicine 
and Surgery,' p. 172, I found these words, under symptoms 
of poisoning by sulphuric acid : ' The skin covered with 
a cold sweat, the countenance livid, and expressive of 
dreadful suffering. . . . Aquafortis produces the same 
effect as sulphuric, the only difference being that the external 
stains, if any, are yellow instead of brown.' " (Vol. III. p. 

a Ghost Another, in which the ghost of a husband visited 

Looking after a friend who had failed to keep his word by seeing 

its widow. after his wid0Wj is thus toM by Mn c Happerfield 

himself : — 

" When my old friend, John Harford, who had been a 
Wesleyan lay preacher for half a century, lay dying, in June 
of 185 1, he sent for me, and when I went to his bedside, he 
said, ■ I am glad you have come, friend Happerfield ; I 
cannot die easy until I am assured that my wife will be 
looked after and cared for until she may be called to join me 
in the other world. I have known you for many years, and 
now want you to promise to look to her well-being during the 
little time which she may remain after me.' I said, ' I will do 
what I can, so let your mind be at rest.' He said, ' I can 
trust you,' and then soon afterwards, on the 20th of the month, 
fell asleep in the Lord. I administered his affairs, and when all 
was settled there remained a balance in favour of the widow, 
but not sufficient to keep her. I put her into a small cottage, 
interested some friends in her case, and saw that she was 
comfortable. After a little while Mrs. Harford's grandson came 
and proposed to take the old lady to his house in Gloucester- 
shire, where he held a situation as schoolmaster. The request 
seemed reasonable. I consented, provided that she was quite 
willing to go, and the young man took her accordingly. Time 
passed on. We had no correspondence. I had done my duty 
to my dying friend, and there the matter rested. But one night 
as I lay in bed wakeful, towards morning, turning over busi- 
ness and other matters in my mind, I suddenly became con- 
scious that some one was in my room. Then the curtain of 
my bed was drawn aside, and there stood my departed friend, 
gazing upon me with a sorrowful and troubled look. I felt no 
fear, but surprise and astonishment kept me silent. He spoke 
to me distinctly and audibly in his own familiar voice, and 


said, ' Friend Happerfield, I have come to you because you 
have not kept your promise to see to my wife. She is in 
trouble and in want.' I assured him that I had done my duty 
and was not aware that she was in any difficulty, and that I 
would see about her first thing, and have her attended to. He 
looked satisfied and vanished from my sight. I awoke my 
wife, who was asleep at my side, and told her of what had 
occurred. Sleep departed from us, and on arising, the first 
thing I did was to write to the grandson. In reply, he in- 
formed me that he had been deprived of his situation through 
persecution, and was in great straits, in so much that he had 
decided on sending his grandmother to the union. Forthwith 
I sent some money, and a request to have the old lady for- 
warded to me immediately. She came, and was again pro- 
vided with a home, and her wants supplied. These are the 
circumstances as they occurred. I am not a nervous man, nor 
am I superstitious. At the time my old friend came to me I 
was wide awake, collected, and calm. The above is very 
correct, not overdrawn." 
a Match- There is one instance recorded of a ghost that 
making" came back in order to make two lovers happy. 
Ghost - It is as follows :— 

" A young couple were engaged. The father of the woman 
withdrew his consent. The mother, on her death-bed, made 
its renewal her last request. The father, instead of getting 
over his sorrow, seemed more and more bowed down with 
an increasing sense of horror. One day he told his married 
daughter and her husband that his wife haunted him every 
morning at four, the hour at which she died, always talking 
of the young couple. They asked him what clothes the ap- 
parition wore, and he said, ' The last dress I gave, and a cap 
of your making.' On her way home the married daughter told 
her husband that it was when in that dress and cap her mother 
had said to her, ' If I die before your father renews his con- 
sent, I shall haunt him till he does.' She was then in perfect 
health. This was never told to the father, but he was urged 
to renew his consent. For some months he could only escape 
the visitations by having some one awake with him in the 
room. From the day he consented again to the marriage his 
wife's visits ceased." (Vol. III. p. ioo.) 

Here is a ghost that was impelled by love of 
oflfother.^ a w ^ e to remind a daughter to do her duty : — 

"About two months before the death of my 
dear father, which occurred on December ioth, 1887, one 


night, about 12 or 1 a.m., when I was in bed in a perfectly 
waking condition, he came to my bedside and led me right 
through the cemetery at Kensal Green, stopping at the spot 
where his grave was afterwards made. 

" Again, a day or two before his death, somewhere between 
December 4th and 10th (the day of his decease), when he was 
lying in an unconscious state in a room on the ground floor, 
and I was sleeping on the second floor, I was awoke suddenly 
by seeing a bright light in my bedroom — the whole room was 
flooded with a radiance quite indescribable — and my father 
was standing by my bedside, an etherealised, semi-transparent 
figure, but yet his voice and his aspect were normal. His voice 
seemed a far-off sound, and yet it was his same voice as in life. 
All he said was, ' Take care of mother.' He then disappeared, 
floating in the air, as it were, and the light also vanished. 

"About a week afterwards, that is to say, between the 12th 
and the 17th of December, the same apparition came to me 
again, and repeated the same words. An aunt to whom I 
related these three experiences, suggested to me the possibility 
that something was troubling his spirit, and I then promised 
her that should my dear father visit me again I would answer 
him. This occurred a short time afterwards. On this, the 
fourth occasion, he repeated the same words, and I replied, 
1 Yes, father.' He then added, ' I am in perfect peace.' 

" Apparently he was satisfied with this my assurance. Since 
that time I have neither heard nor seen him more." (Vol. V. 

P- 45I-) 

The next ghosts that I shall mention came for 
C °Gho I su? ry a spiritual or religious purpose : — A correspondent. 

"My father died suddenly. He had been seriously 
troubled with many doubts regarding various points of Chris- 
tian faith. ... I was lying in deepest anguish, beset 
not only with the grief of the sudden loss sustained, but with 
the wretched fear that my beloved father had died too sud- 
denly to find peace with God regarding those miserable doubts 
that had so troubled him. As the night wore on, the pain of 
the heart and thought grew worse and worse, and at length I 
knelt in prayer, earnestly pleading that my distressful thoughts 
might be taken away, and an assurance of my father's peace 
be given me by God's most Holy Spirit. No immediate 
relief came, however, and it was early dawn when I rose from 
my knees, and felt that I must be patient and wait for the 
answer to my prayer. 

"I was just about to slip quietly down into the bed, when 


on the opposite side of it (that on which the nurse was sleep- 
ing) the room became suddenly full of beautiful light, in the 
midst of which stood my father, absolutely transfigured, clothed 
with brightness. He slowly moved towards the bed, raising 
his hands, as I thought, to clasp me in his arms, and I 
ejaculated, 'Father!' He replied, 'Blessed for ever, my 
child ! For ever blessed ! ' I moved to climb over nurse and 
kiss him, reaching out my arms to him, but with a look of 
mingled sadness and love he appeared to float back with the 
light towards the wall and was gone ! The vision occupied 
so short a time that, glancing involuntarily at the window 
again, I saw the morning dawn, and the little birds just as 
they had looked a few minutes before. I felt sure that God 
had vouchsafed me a wonderful vision, and was not in the 
least afraid, but, on the contrary, full of joy that brought floods 
of grateful tears, and completely removed all anguish except 
that of having lost my father from earth. I offer no explana- 
tion, and can only say most simply and truthfully that it all 
happened just as I have related it." (Vol. XI. p. 26.) 

Mr. Angus Ross, 62, Calder Street, Govanhill, Glasgow, 
writes me as follows : — 

" In a small village in the north of Scotland, where I was 
born, my mother was very much sought after as a sick nurse 
to the poor. One of our neighbours sickened and died ; my 
mother was a good deal with her during her illness. Deceased 
and my mother lived for a long time on very friendly terms, 
and now that she was gone, and did not leave very clear 
evidence as to what her future state would be, my mother's 
mind was much perplexed about the matter. 

" So a night or two after the death of her friend, as she was 
lying in bed perfectly awake, the dead woman came to her 
bedside in form as perfect as ever she had in life ; my mother 
was overcome with fear at the sight, and could not utter a 
word, so after awhile she vanished away. During next day 
the matter scarcely left her mind, and next night at the same 
time and in like manner the visitation was made. My mother 
was unable to speak, and this seemed to give offence, for she 
looked angry- like, then vanished as before. Next day my 
mother resolved if the visit was repeated that she would ask 
her if she was happy. The opportunity of doing so was given 
her next night, but in her agitated state of mind she used the 
word ' weel ' instead of happy. She replied, ' Yes, be pray- 
ing ; ' this she repeated three times, and vanished and was 


a«».u» I will conclude this chapter by the following 

A "Fetch." ,.„ - ., l . J -i, 

brief note of one of the most circumstantial ghost 
stories of recent times. It is the only story I print that illus- 
trates the beautiful belief that the spirit of the best beloved 
in life attends the death-bed to conduct the parting spirit into 
the other world : — 

"About fourteen of the 5th Lancers were seated in their 
mess-room in the East Cavalry Barracks, Aldershot, one day 
in the autumn of 1876. They had just finished their dinner, 
a little after half-past eight o'clock, when a lady in full evening 
dress in white silk, and with a long bridal veil, walked past 
the window outside, the curtains being but partially drawn. 
Her movement was pretty rapid, but two officers at least who 
sat at the table saw her. She moved in the direction of Mr. 
Norton, who rang the bell and asked the mess sergeant if any 
one had been in the conservatory at the back of the room, as 
it was thought the apparition might be due to reflection. As 
the sergeant denied that any woman had entered the room, 
it was said that she must have been a ghost, as there was no 
ledge outside the window, which was about 40 feet from the 
ground. Her features were discussed. She was described 
by those who saw her as handsome, very dark, and with a 
very sad countenance. One officer present, on hearing the 

description, said, ■ Why, that is little old 's wife, who died 

in India.' The officer whom he named was the regimental 
veterinary, who was supposed at that time to be home on 
leave. It turned out, however, that the veterinary had re- 
turned that afternoon, unknown to any of his brother officers, 
and although some weeks of his leave remained. He had 
walked up to his room, which was immediately above the 
butler's pantry. He rang for his servant, and complained of 
great fatigue, ordered brandy, and then sent his servant away. 
He continued drinking. A few days later, about half-past 
eight o'clock, the servant went up to his room and found him 
dying in bed. An officer present, Adjutant Fletcher, had to 
enter his room, and after taking an inventory of his effects, 
to lock it up as a caution against pilfering. The very first 
thing Dr. Atkinson, who attended him, saw was a cabinet 
portrait of the lady, in the same dress which they had seen a 
few days before. Witnesses of the apparition : Captain Norton, 
Surgeon Atkinson (who died last year), the regimental doctor, 
Lieutenant Fred Russell, alias ■ Brer Rabbit ' of the Sporting 
Times, since dead. 



DURING my visit to Scotland in 1891 I had the honour of 
being entertained at a dinner, given at the City Liberal 
Club, by my helpers in Glasgow. There were fourteen of us 
altogether, Professor Lindsay being in the chair. After dinner 
I turned the conversation upon the subject of apparitions, and 
remarked that I did not think that a dozen persons ever met 
without one of their number having seen a ghost. " Now 
who is there," I asked, "who has seen a ghost here?" Sit- 
ting opposite me at the table was Mr. David Dick, auctioneer, 
of 98, Sauchiehall Street, a young married man, about thirty- 
five, a member of the Glasgow Ruskin Society, as well as one 
of the earliest members of our Association of Helpers. 
He said, " I do not believe in ghosts, but I have seen one." 
At first I thought he was joking, but in reply to my question 
he repeated his remark, " I do not believe in ghosts, I never 
did and do not now ; but, nevertheless, I have seen one. I 
am not in the least superstitious," he continued. " I remember 
once, before my father died, receiving a practical lesson in the 
absurdity of most of the alarms which scare the nerves of the 
timid. My father came into the house from the garden with a 
feeling that some one had been following him, and when we 
looked out of the window there certainly was something un- 
canny beside the door. When we came out it disappeared, 
but on looking at it again from the window we saw it. At last, 
after nearly half an hour's diligent search and examination, we 
discovered that the apparent apparition was caused by the 
light of the moon shining through a small window in the 
porch. I remember, although it is nearly twenty years ago, 
my father saying that if every one would take as much pains 
as we had to investigate ghosts they would be found to have a 
similar natural explanation. I have always held to that ; but, 
nevertheless, I have seen a ghost, and I find it utterly impos- 
sible to explain it on any so-called natural grounds." " But 
tell us about your ghost ; when did you see it ? " "I cannot 


remember the exact date. My memory is bad for dates ; I do 
not even remember the date of my birth or of my marriage. 
But it is about nine or ten years ago." " Was it the ghost of a 
living or of a dead person ? " "A ghost of a dead person.' 
" How long had it been dead ? " " Six years." " Where did 
you see it ? " " In Glasgow." " In the day or night ? " " At 
half-past three in the afternoon, in broad daylight." " But tell 
us how it occurred ? " "I had left the office in Sauchiehall 
Street at half past three in the afternoon. I was going on an 
errand to St. Vincent Street, and had my mind full of my 
business. I went along Sauchiehall Srreet and entered Ren- 
field Street, where the ghost joined me." " You knew it was 
a ghost?" "Perfectly." "How did you know it was a 
ghost?" "Because I recognised it at once." " Did it speak 
to you ? " " It did." " What did it say to you ? " " That I 
cannot tell you ; it spoke of a matter which was only known 
to myself." "You answered?" "Yes, and continued to 
walk on, the ghost accompanying me exactly as if it had been 
an ordinary person. We walked down Renfield Street together, 
talking. There was nothing in the appearance of the ghost to 
impress anyone who met it that it was not a living man. It 
wore a black coat and a flat felt hat which I had only seen worn 
once in the lifetime of the deceased. The part of Renfield 
Street we traversed together is about 250 yards long, and one 
of the busiest streets in Glasgow. When I got to the corner 
of Vincent Street the ghost vanished. I did not see it come, 
and I did not see it go : I only knew it was not there." 
" Were you not frightened ? " " Not the least in the world." 
" Did you *iot ask it any questions ? " " No, none, I simply 
carried on the conversation which it had begun." " Did not 
its sudden disappearance disturb you?" "Not at all; it 
joined me without notice, and left me as simply. I did not 
see it dissolve, it simply was not there any longer." " And 
you knew the ghost?" "Perfectly." "Who was it, may I 
ask ? " " It was the ghost of my father." " Were you thinking 
of your father ? " " Not at all." " And when he spoke to 
you, were you not surprised?" "Not in the least." "Nor 
inquisitive?" "No, it seemed so natural. I was chiefly 
thinking of the place I was going to. In fact, it was not until 
the next day that I began to realize how strange it was that I 
had been speaking familiarly to my father, six years after he 
had died, in a busy Glasgow street. But that it was so I have 
not the slightest doubt in the world. That I know. I have 
had no other experience of a similar nature, As I said, I do 


not believe in ghosts ; all that I know is that I did walk down 
Renfield Street with my father six years after his death." 

Here was a pretty story, utterly at variance with almost all 
the traditional ghost stories, yet Mr. Dick stoutly maintains 
that whatever his ghost may have been, it was a ghost not- 
withstanding, and not a subjective hallucination in any sense. 
He saw it as plainly as any one in the street, and, so far as he 
could see, any one else must have seen it also. The ghost 
went off the pavement in order to prevent a collision just as if 
it had been in its ordinary body. The crucial question, of 
course, is whether the ghost communicated to Mr. Dick any 
fact which at the time was not within his knowledge, and had 
never been known to him. That we did not think of asking 
him at the time, but when I put the question directly to Mr. 
Dick, he answered : — 

" The ' vision,' as you call it, suggested, without insisting, 
that I was annoying myself too much about affairs which did 
not really lie in my power, and that events might prove my 
worry quite senseless, which they did. There was neither 
definite prophecy nor promise. Had there been I should have 
said the ' ghost ; was a pure swindle, my father having been 
a man so reserved that William the Silent was a chatterer to 
him. I've had worse worries and more serious troubles since, 
it is fair to say, which have neither been averted nor amelior- 
ated by another visit from the ' vision.' " 

a Ghost T^ s story reminds me of one published by the 

interested in Psychical Research Society, which from some 

the st. Leger. p 0]nts f v j ew j g even more remar kable than Mr. 

Dick's. It is not unnatural that a son should see his father, 
or thinks he sees him, for the human naturally broods over the 
memory of a much-loved parent, and some circumstance or 
train of thought may lead a sensitive medium to visualise his 
ideas. The apparition in the following story cannot be said 
to be due to any such personal sympathy, for the person who 
appeared, so far from being a near relation, was merely a man 
with whom the percipient had done business in the past in 
connection with horse-racing. The narrative, as received from 
Mr. William H. Stone, i, Park Avenue, Slade Lane, Lcvens- 
hulme, Manchester, and as printed in the "Proceedings," 
runs as follows : — 

"I was going along from our office in rather a merry mood, 
to order from a stationer in P Street a quantity of cata- 
logues wanted in our next Friday's sale, for we sold the hides 
and skin every Friday by auction, at half-past one o'clock to 


the minute, or nearly so. As I said, I was going along 

P Street, it might be some six or eight days before the 

great St. Leger day. I generally had a pound or two on the 
1 Leger,' and it was my intention, as soon as my little order 
was given, to see a friend about the horse I had backed. 

Crossing from left to right in P Street, whom should I 

meet (or as I thought met) but an old customer, as he had 
been for some years, of my father's. My father was formerly 
a brewer, and had supplied the party I thought I met with ale 
for some years, and I used to collect the accounts from him 
along with others in the same line ; he was a beerhouse keeper, 
or, as they then called them, a jerry-shopkeeper. I went up 
to him, called him by his right name and shook him by the 
left hand, for he had no right, it having been cut off when he 
was a youth ; he had a substitute for a hand in the shape of a 
hook, and he was, said he, very active with his hook when his 
services were required in turning any one out of his house that 
was in any way refractory. He was what you may call a jolly, 
good, even-tempered sort of man, and much respected by his 
customers, most of whom did a little betting in the racing line. 
He had a very red, countrified sort of face, and dressed quite 
in the country style, in a felt halt, something after the present 
style of billy-cocks, with thick blue silk handkerchief with 
round white dots on it, his coat a sort of chedle-swinger, and a 
gold watchguard passing over his neck and over his waistcoat ; 
his clothing was all of good material and respectably made. 
The moment he saw me his face shone bright, and he seemed 
much pleased to meet me, and I may say I felt a similar 
pleasure towards him. Mind, this occurred in broad daylight, 
no moonlight or darkness, so essential an accompaniment to 
ghost stories ; many people were passing and repassing at the 
time. You may be sure I did not stand in the middle of the 
street for about seven minutes, talking and shaking hands with 
myself. Some one would have had a laugh at me if that had 
been the case. I almost at once, after the stereotyped com- 
pliments of the day, launched into the state of the odds 
respecting the St. Leger, and into the merits and demerits of 
various horses. He supplied me with what information I 
required, and we each went our way. He was a man supposed 
to be well posted up in such matters, had cool judgment and 
discrimination ; in fact, he was one of those who would not be 
led away by what are called tips. I made a memorandum or 
two, shook his hand again, and passed on about my business, 
ordered my catalogues, etc. 


" I came back sauntering along towards the office, not now 
intending to see the party I had previously intended to see. 

As I got to the same part of P Street on my way back, I 

suddenly stood still, my whole body shook, and for a moment 
I tried to reason with myself. The man I had been speaking 
to was dead some four years before ! Could it be possible 
that he had been buried alive ? This is horribly shocking to 
think about, but such things have happened. Decomposition 
being the only certain indication of death, might he not have 
been prematurely buried ? But if so, what had I to do with 
it ? I had nothing to do with his death, but I am sorry now I 
do not recollect or know the particulars of his death or burial. 
I certainly saw his funeral. (We have failed to obtain the 
certificate of death or burial.) As I stood in the street I tried 
to give utterance to my thoughts and feelings ; but no, I felt a 
sort of dumbness, and fairly gasped for breath. I felt a cold 
shiver come over me although the day was warm ; the hair of 
my head seemed as if it would force my hat off my head ; my 
very blood seemed to object to perform its duty. 

" The question might be asked, was I unwell? Had I been 
indulging too freely in stimulants ? In both cases I answer, 
No. Was it an optical delusion, for nothing is so deceptive as 
optical delusions ? Certainly not. We sometimes believe we 
see what we do not see ; but in this case it was nothing of the 
sort ; nor could it be somebody like him, it was him ! As I 
said before, he had but one hand, and his right hand was his 
left hand in a sense. I had business transactions with him for 
many years. He had entirely slipped out of my memory for a 
length of time. That he was in or out of existence it never 
occurred to me for one moment till now ; and the thought 
never presented itself during the interval of my going and 
coming, and perhaps never would have done had I not gone 

back by way of P Street, and passed the identical spot. 

It may be asked am I, or was I, superstitious ? I say, No, 

If this story be credited, it is totally different from all pre- 
conceived notions of the subject of ghosts. Whatever else 
disembodied spirits have been accused of doing in the past, 
this is the first time they have been credited with even a 
passing interest in the fortunes of the St. Leger. 

A Ever since the leading case of Baalam's ass, it is 

clergyman's understood that animals have a plainer perception 

Narrative. Q £ ^ Q j nv j s jbi e t h an human beings. In out-of- 
door ghosts, it is usually the horse which discovers the uncanny 


visitant before the human biped who rides or drives him. 
Here is a story in which a pony plays a conspicuous part. It 
is sent me by the Rev. D. Holland Stubbs, of Penwortham 
Vicarage. It is as follows : — 

"lam a clergyman of the Church of England, holding a 
small country living in one of the prettiest localities in the 
western portion of the diocese of Manchester. 

"It was just at the end of a day in the autumn of 18S9, 
when the sun had set, that I proceeded in my pony trap to 
conduct a Bible Class in a small schoolroom in a distant 
corner of my extensive parish. I set off from the vicarage 
about half-past six o'clock, and had proceeded about a mile 
and a half on my way, down a long lonely lane, with cottage- 
farms at some distance apart, and had arrived just opposite a 
strange-looking, square-built house, with heavy, overhanging 
roof and curiously shaped windows, embedded in dark, gloomy 
looking trees. Several times on previous occasions my good 
wife had shuddered when passing this strange abode, though 
in the open daytime, and had once made the remark, ' I don't 
like the look of that house; there is something uncanny about 
it.' Ordinarily she is not of a superstitious turn of mind, nor 
of a highly nervous temperament. However, on the occasion 
referred to I was alone and progressing at a fairly rapid rate. 
I arrived at the spot mentioned, when suddenly and unac- 
countably my pony stopped, causing me to be thrown forward 
and to nearly fall over the dash-board ; at the same time 
setting his ears and stretching his neck as though he saw some- 
thing in front. We were just about entering a part of the road 
which was thickly covered with trees, upon which still lingered 
a few leaves unremoved by the September gales, so that the 
place was very gloomy. The more distant part of the road 
appeared to be in pitchy darkness. Unfortunately, I had no 
lamps lighted at the time. I urged on my steed with whip 
and voice. He proceeded cautiously, still craning his neck 
and listening intently, as though he saw and heard something 
which I certainly could not, though I strained my eyes and 
ears to do so. One or two smart cuts with the whip made 
him move on more rapidly until we were right under the 
trees. Again he stopped, and this time wheeled right round, 
and with difficulty I prevented myself being landed with the 
trap on top of me in a deep and wide land-drain. After a 
little persuasion he headed round again and ran on. Another 
start and stoppage, and this time the pony trembled in every 
limb, shaking the harness and trap. Fear, they say, is in- 


fectious, and I, too, began to be somewhat alarmed, although I 
could see nothing to cause fear. Looking, however, intently 
ahead, I perceived a figure in white, moving along silently on 
the grass border of the road, about ten yards in front. Think- 
ing it was a farm servant girl in print dress and white apron, I 
laid on with the whip, in order to come up with her. The 
pony went on cautiously, stopping whenever the figure stopped. 
I called out, but no response was given. Mustering up all 
my courage I urged the animal forward. The figure went on 
rapidly, and as I was just about to overtake it, it turned at 
right angles and disappeared through the hedge. The con- 
clusion I came to was that it must have been some farm 
servant, and having been surprised and not wishing to be 
overtaken and recognised, she made a short cut across the 
field to the farm-house near at hand. After passing on a little 
way until I came to a cross road, I stopped and got out to 
soothe my frightened animal, and found him bathed in a cold 
sweat, which literally ran off him. He was trembling violently, 
and appeared so weak that I feared he could not go much 
farther. For some minutes I let him rest, talking to him the 
while, and comforting him. After he had somewhat quietened 
down I proceeded to my destination, determining, on the first 
occasion, to examine that portion of the road, and see whether 
I could learn the cause of our fright. The opportunity pre- 
sented itself in a day or two after, and with the noonday 
brightness I carefully inspected the road, and particularly that 
portion of the hedge through which the figure had disappeared. 
To my astonishment, though I had marked the spot and knew 
it well, there was no gap in the hedge, as I had expected to 
find — no, not even one so small that a slight person could 
have squeezed through. The hedge for the whole length was 
an exceptionally good one, without gap or mend. Who or 
what the figure was I have never, from that day to this, been 
able to learn. Certain it is, it could not have been a farm 
girl, for no one could possibly have got through or over a 
hedge like that. Further information than this I cannot give, 
nor can I offer any explanation, but merely state the bare facts 
as they certainly happened, with the effects they caused upon 
both myself and pony." 

a Gh t * n lne next stor y» which is sent me by a solicitor 

on the of Teeside, the horse, oddly enough, did not seem 

Ha Hins e . t0n tne l east scared at the ghost. My correspondent 

had ridden to Bilsdale, on business to Thirsk, 

across the Hambleton Hills : — 


" In returning after dinner he reached the brow of the 
Hambleton Hills, and began to make the steep descent. 
There was a vast expanse of land to be seen, covered with 
closely cropped turf ; but the whole scene looked ' as wild as 
an hawk.' It may be as well to mention that I was in splendid 
health, having been out travelling for months ; and my spirits 
were buoyant, or I think the scene of desolation would have 
depressed me. I had not proceeded far in the descent, when 
I observed the tall figure of a lady draped in black, in advance 
of me, and walking in the same direction, but on the turf and 
on my right. I must say it occasioned me surprise to see a 
lady alone in so dreary a region. Obedient to my first im- 
pulse, I put my heel to the horse to come up abreast with her 
My attention was divided between the lady and my horse, lest 
he should come to grief, the road being both steep and rough. 
I had the object thus several times in view, but I did not 
seem to be advancing upon it. I am not long-sighted, but 
there were no trees or shrubs on this part of the ground, nor 
any mist that could have occasioned a mistake. After awhile, 
we neared the bottom of the hill, the road turning then along 
its base, and bounded on the right by a large and ancient 
wood. Near this turn, the object vanished ! I expected to 
find a stile into the wood through which the lady had entered, 
but there was no stile, neither was there a gap in the hedge, 
which was of immense growth. On the left hand was a very 
high wall, but no stile through it. I pulled up my horse and 
listened, but there was no sound. Had any one asked me if I 
would swear I had seen a lady in black descending the hill I 
would have done so without hesitation. I must say I was 
surprised at the disappearance, and thought (and most likely 
said) to myself, ' Well, this is a rum go ! ' Riding on, I shortly 
afterwards came to a picturesque hamlet which appeared 
almost imbedded in the ancient wood. I had a strong dis- 
position to pull up here and make some inquiries, but I 
resolved not, lest the good people, hearing my extraordinary 
statement, should laugh at me for a fool. Proceeding on my 
journey I afterwards passed a high and massive wall that 
appeared to protect the garden or grounds of some old ruin, 
and in due course I reached Thirsk, having had a very en- 
joyable day. A busy life has left me little time to give to 
subjects of this kind, but after some years had gone, I was 
taking a quiet cup of tea with an old friend in the county of 
Durham, when he introduced the subject of apparitions. 
Having heard what he had to say, I remarked that never but 


once in my life had I seen anything I could not account for, 
and I related to him the statement I am now making, and 
nearly in the same words. My friend paid great attention, 
and when I had concluded said, ' Now let me put to you two 
questions : Did you ever hear anything of what you have been 
telling me?' ' Never,' was my answer, ' I was a perfect 
stranger to the place and the people.' He continued, 'Did 
you ever read anything about it ? ' ' Never.' ' Then,' he 
said, 'it is a most extraordinary statement you have made, for 
it confirms a pamphlet I have somewhere in my house, that 
gives a similar account of what has been seen in that 
neighbourhood. Had you called at the hamlet and made an 
inquiry, so far from laughing at you as a fool, you would have 
been quietly told that you had seen My Lady ; and you would 
have found that they are familiar with the sight. The 
tradition is that many years ago a gentleman and his wife 
lived at the hall — the old ruin of which you passed — and that 
he was worked up to fit of jealousy by some Iago of a 
character and destroyed his wife, hiding the body in that 
massive garden wall. Restless, he fled to France, and was 
ultimately murdered by the same Iago.' 

"To prove to you that I am not morbidly curious on 
subjects of this kind, I may say that I never made a point of 
seeing my friend's pamphlet, and he is now dead ; but, not 
unlikely, a copy of it may be found in some old household. I 
have never again visited the scene, though I have sometimes 
been as near to it as Thirsk. The account I am giving has 
scarcely been named beyond the range of my own family, and 
this is the first time I have put pen to paper about it. 

" I send you my name, but not for publication." 

The Murdered ^ ne llext St ° r y * S Sent me ^Y 0ne °^ tne l eacnn S 

Miller on the townsmen of Cowes, in the Isle of Wight. The 
Grey Horse. i 10rse was not frightened in the least, although 
in this case there was a spectral horse as well as a horse- 
man : — 

"On a fine evening in April, 1859, the writer was riding 
with a friend on a country road. Twilight was closing down 
on us, when, after a silence of some minutes, my friend 
suddenly exclaimed, ' No man knows me better than you do, 
J. Do you think I am a nervous, easily frightened sort of 
man ? ' * Far from it,' said I ; { among all the men I know in 
the wild country I have lived and worked in, I know none 
more fearless or of more unhesitating nerve.' ' Well,' said he, 
' I think I am that, too \ and though I have travelled these 


roads all sorts of hours, summer and winter, for twenty years, 
I never met anything to startle me, or that I could not account 
for, until last Monday evening. About this time it was. 
Riding old Fan (a chestnut mare) here on this cross (a four- 
way cross road), on my near side was a man on a grey horse, 
coming from this left-hand road. I had to pull my off rein to 
give myself room to pass ahead of him ; he was coming at a 
right angle to me. As I passed the head of his horse I called 
out ' good-night.' Hearing no reply, I turned in my saddle 
to the off-side, to see whether he appeared to be asleep as he 
rode, but to my surprise I saw neither man nor horse. So 
sure was I that I had seen such, that I wheeled old Fan round 
and rode back to the middle of the cross, and on neither of 
the four roads could I see man or horse, though there was 
light enough to see two hundred or three hundred yards, as 
we can now. Well, I then rode over to that gate ' (a gate at 
one corner opening into a grass field), l thinking he might 
have gone that way ; looking down by each hedge I could see 
nothing of my man and horse ; and then — and not until then — 
I felt myself thrill and start with a shuddering sense that I had 
seen something uncanny, and, by Jove ! I put the mare down 
this hill we are now on at her very best pace. But the 
strangest part of my story is to come/ said he, continuing. 
'After I had done my business at the farm-house here, at 
foot of this hill, I told the old farmer and his wife what I had 
seen, as I have now told you. The old man said, " For many 

years I have known thee, M , on this road, and have you 

never seen the like before on that cross?" "Seen what be- 
fore ? " I said. " Why, a man in light-colour clothes on a 
grey horse," said he. " No, never," said I ; " but I swear I 
have this evening." The farmer asked, il Had I never heard 

of what happened to the miller of L ■ Mills about forty 

years ago ? " " No, never a word," I told him. " Well," he 
said, " about forty years ago this miller, returning from market, 
was waylaid and murdered on that cross, pockets rifled of 
money and watch. The horse ran home, about a mile away. 
Two serving-men set out, with lanterns, and found their 
master dead. He was dressed, as millers often do in this part 
of the country, in light-coloured clothes, and the horse was a 
grey horse. The murderers were never found. These are 
facts," continued the farmer. " I took this farm soon after it 
all happened, and, though I have known all this, and have 
passed over that cross thousands of times, I never saw any- 
thing unusual there myself; but there have been a number of 



people who tell the same story you have now told mother and 
me, M — — , and describe the appearance of a man on grey 
horse, seen and disappearing , as you have done to-night." ' 

11 Four evenings after all this occurred my friend related it 
to me as we were riding along the same road. He continued 
to pass there many times every year for ten years, but never 
again saw anything of the sort." 

41 He has seen "An Afrikander" sends me the following 
the white graphic description of a South African ehost. He 

Korse ! " f * . l 5 

says : — 
11 I'm not a believer in ghosts — no, never was ; but, seeing 
you wanted a census of them, I can't help giving you a re- 
markable experience of mine. It was some three summers 
back, and I was out with a party of Boer hunters. We had 
crossed the northern boundary of the Transvaal, and were 
camped on the ridges of the Lembombo. I had been out 
from sunrise, and was returning about dusk with the skin of a 
fine black ostrich thrown across the saddle in front of me, in 
the best of spirits at my good luck. Making straight for the 
camp, I had hardly entered a thick bush when I thought that 
I heard somebody behind me. Looking behind, I saw a man 
mounted on a white horse. You can imagine my surprise, 
for my horse was the only one in camp, and we were the 
only party in the country. Without considering, I quickened 
my pace into a canter, and on doing so my follower appeared 
to do the same. At this I lost all confidence, and made a run 
for it with my follower in hot pursuit, as it appeared to my 
imagination ; and I did race for it (the skin went flying in 
about two minutes, and my rifle would have done the same 
had it not been strapped over my shoulders). This I kept 
up until I rode into camp right among the pals cooking 
the evening meal. The young Boers about the camp were 
quick in their inquiries as to my distressed condition, and 
regaining confidence, I was putting them off as best I could, 
when the old boss (an old Boer of some sixty-eight or seventy 
years) looking up from the fire said, ' The White Horse ! 
The Englishman has seen the White Horse.' This I denied, 
but to no purpose. And that night, round the camp fire, I 
took the trouble to make inquiries as to the antecedents of 
the White Horse. And the old Boer, after he had com- 
manded silence, began. He said, ' The English are not brave, 
but foolish. We beat them at Majuba, some twenty-five 
seasons back. There was an Englishman here like you ; he 
had brought a horse with him against our advice, to be killed 


with the fly, the same as yours will be in a day or two. And 
he, like you, would go where he was told not to go ; and one 
day he went into a bush (that very bush you rode through to- 
night), and he shot seven elephants, and the next day he went 
in to fetch the ivory, and about night his horse came into 
camp riderless, and was dead from the fly before the sun went 
down. The Englishman is in that bush now ; anyway, he 
never came back. And now anybody who ventures into that 
bush is chased by the White Horse. I wouldn't go into that 
bush for all the ivory in the land. The English are not brave, 
but foolish ; we beat them at Majuba.' Here he ran into a 
torrent of abuse of all Englishmen in general and in particular. 
And I took the opportunity of rolling myself up in my blankets 
for the night, sleeping all the better for my adventure. Now, 
Mr. Stead, I don't believe in ghosts, but I was firmly con- 
vinced during that run of mine, and can vouch for the 
accuracy of it, not having heard a word of the Englishman or 
his white horse before my headlong return to the camp that 
night. I shortly hope to be near that bush again ; but, like 
the old Boer, I can say, I wouldn't go into that bush again for 
all the ivory in the land. 

"P.S. — A few days after we dropped across a troop of 
elephants without entering the fatal bush, and managed to bag 
seven, photographs of which I took, and shall be pleased to 
send for, your inspection if desired." 

The ghosts of horses are not very numerous, 
2?aS£2! but they exist. Mr. Kendall, in his Diary, has 
several instances of this kind. Two Cumberland 
farmers, who had broken their necks in riding home drunk 
from market, are occasionally seen riding along the high road, 
and suddenly disappearing on the spot where they met their 
deaths. There is also a very good story of a spectral pony 
that was seen on New Year's morning. But the best story of 
all about a spectral horse is that found in the " Proceedings 
of the Psychical Research Society." 
a weird story Xt is tol . d b Y General Barter, C.B., of Careys- 

from the town, Whitegate, Co. Cork. At the time he 
Indian Hiiis. w itnessed the spectral cavalcade he was living in 
the hills in India, and when one evening he was returning 
home he caught sight of a rider and attendants coming 
towards him. The rest of the story is in his own words : — 

"At this time the two dogs came, and, crouching at my 
side, gave low, frightened whimpers. The moon was at the 
full — a tropical moon — so bright that you could see to read a 


newspaper by its light, and I saw the party before me advance 
as plainly as if it were noonday. They were above me some 
eight or ten feet on the bridle road, the earth thrown down 
from which sloped to within a pace or two of my feet. On 
the party came, until almost in front of me, and now I had 
better describe them. The rider was in full dinner dress, 
with white waistcoat, and wearing a tall chimney-pot hat, and 
he sat a powerful hill pony ( dark brown, with mane and tail) 
in a listless sort of way, the reins hanging loosely from both 
hands. A syce led the pony on each side, but their faces I 
could not see, the one next to me having his back to me and 
the one farthest off being hidden by the pony's head. Each 
held the bridle close by the bit, the man next me with his 
right and the other with his left hand, and the other hands 
were on the thighs of the rider, as if to steady him in his seat. 
As they approached, I, knowing they could not get to any 
place other than my own, called out in Hindustani, ' Quon 
hai ? ' (who is it ?) There was no answer, and on they came 
until right in front of me, when I said, in English, ' Hollo, 
what the d — 1 do you want here ? ' Instantly the group came 
to a halt, the rider gathering the bridle reins up in both hands, 
turned his face, which had hitherto been looking away from 
me, towards me, and looked down upon me. The group was 
still as in a tableau, with the bright moon shining upon it, and 
I at once recognised the rider as Lieutenant B., whom I had 
formerly known. The face, however, was different from what 
it used to be ; in the place of being clean shaven, as when I 
used to know it, it was now surrounded by a fringe (what used 
to be known as a Newgate fringe), and it was the face of a 
dead man, the ghastly waxen pallor of~it brought out more 
distinctly in the moonlight by the dark fringe of hair by which 
it was encircled j the body, too, was much stouter than when 
I had known it in life. 

" I marked this in a moment, and then resolved to lay hold 
of the thing, whatever it might be. I dashed up the bank, 
and the earth which had been thrown on the side giving 
under my feet, I fell forward up the bank on my hands. 
Recovering myself instantly, I gained the road, and stood in 
the exact spot where the group had been, but which was now 
vacant : there was not a trace of anything. It was impossible 
for them to go on, the road stopped at a precipice about 
twenty yards further on, and it was impossible to turn and go 
back in a second. All this flashed through my mind, and I 
then ran along the road for about ioo yards, along which they 


had come, until I had to stop for want of breath, but there 
was no trace of anything, and not a sound to be heard. I 
then returned home, where I found my dogs, who on all other 
occasions my most faithful companions, had not come with 
me along the road. 

" Next morning I went up to D. who belonged to the same 
regiment as B., and gradually induced him to talk of him. I 
said, 'How very stout he had become lately, and what 
possessed him to allow his beard to grow into that horrid 
fringe ? ' D. replied, ' Yes, he became very bloated before 
his death. You know he led a very fast life, and while on 
the sick list he allowed the fringe to grow in spite of all that 
we could say to him, and I believe he was buried with it.' 
I asked him where he got the pony I had seen, describing it 
minutely. 'Why,' said D., 'how do you know anything about 
ail this ? You hadn't seen B. for two or three years, and the 
pony you never saw. He bought him at Peshawur, and 
killed him one day riding in his reckless fashion down the 
hill to Trete.' 

" I then told him what I had seen the night before. 

"Once, when the galloping sound was very distinct, I 
rushed to the door of my house. There I found my Hindoo 
bearer, standing with a tattie in his hand. I asked him what 
he was there for. He said that there came a sound of riding 
down the hill, and ' passed him like a typhoon,' and went 
round the corner of the house, and he was determined to 
waylay it, whatever it was." (Vol. V. p. 471.) 

That such a story as this can be gravely told by a British 
General in the present day helps us to understand how our 
ancestors came to believe in the wonderful story of Heme the 

. .. , My concluding story is at least fifty years old. 
Gholt by the It is sent me by the son of a Cornish poet, who 

wayside. certa i n ly does not allow his tale to suffer in the 
telling : — 

" In a certain town in the West of England dwelt Mr. 

V , whom I will call William Foster, a young man of 

ability, acknowledged to be one of the best local preachers in 
his native country. 

" One day he received an invitation to preach in a village 
chapel, being warmly urged to undertake its anniversary 
services. Readily he acceeded to the request, and promised 
to be present on the date specified, on condition that a horse 
should be placed at his disposal in the evening to convey him 


a part of the way home. The loan of a horse being arranged 
for, Foster prepared to fulfil his promise. 

" About a week before the Sunday arrived on which he was 

to go to P he had a remarkable dream. In his dream 

he saw himself riding along a moonlit road on a bay horse. 
Suddenly, without any warning, his horse stopped, and he 
barely saved himself from falling over the animal's neck. 
Struggling, he awoke, and found himself in a profuse per- 
spiration. In his imaginary fall over the horse's head, he 
had acted so vigorously that his good wife was awakened 
from a sound sleep, and wonderingly asked whether he had 
lost his reason. The dream was repeated. This time he 
clung to the horse's mane, and awoke, as before, in a state 
of mental disquietude. Again sleeping, he was for the third 
time visited by the same dream. This time he fell from the 
horse over his neck on the road. So vividly was the whole 
circumstance brought thus before his mind, and so exactly 
did the details correspond, that it was some time before he 
could be convinced he had really been dreaming. He 
thought it very singular. On narrating the dream to his wife, 
she persuaded him not to go on horseback anywhere again on 
any account : he would certainly be killed ; the dream was a 
warning. But little did Foster heed his better-half's specula- 
tions, and by the time the appointed Sabbath came round he 
had forgotten his dream altogether. He went and preached, 
and set off home. 

" Nothing remarkable occurred for the first half-hour. The 
moon was shining brightly. By -and -by the route went 
straight through a cutting where the hedges were a little 
higher than ordinary. On arriving at this point he noticed 
that the horse changed his easy trot into a walking pace, and 
seemed somewhat uneasy. However, the cutting was passed, 
and again they were on the moonlit road, which he could see 
stretching away in front over the undulating hills. Cantering 
along they had not proceeded far before the animal dropped 
into a walk again. Encouragement and caresses were vain, 
walk he would. Suddenly the horse came to a dead halt in 
the middle of the road. The suddenness of stopping nearly 
unseated the rider, but he urged the animal forward. The 
horse was induced to walk on again, although apparently very 

"They had not gone many yards before the horse stopped 
again so suddenly that he had to clutch the animal's mane to 
prevent being thrown headlong upon the highway. What was 


the meaning of such strange behaviour? Then there flashed 
through his mind the circumstances of his dream. Yes, there 
were all the accompaniments of his picture — the bay horse, 
the moonlit road, the sudden stoppages. Surely it was a 
warning. Twice had the creature halted, and he recollected 
his dream made him the third time fall head foremost on the 
road. He got off, and, throwing the bridle over his arm, 
coaxed the horse to move onward. He noticed that the 
animal was covered with perspiration, as if after a hard gallop, 
and that he was trembling violently. Repeatedly, too, he 
glanced searchingly at the hedges. What could be the 
matter ? 

"The strange conduct of the horse became yet stranger. 
More suddenly than before the animal came to a dead halt. 
The animal was in deep distress. His nostrils were dis- 
tended ; sweat covered his limbs ; his eyes were bent in one 
direction, with every symptom of terror. Not seeing any- 
thing remarkable at first in the direction in which the 
horse was gazing, Foster tried to urge him onward : in vain ! 
Passing round to the other side of the animal's head, Foster 
was induced to look more closely towards that portion of the 
somewhat low hedge which the horse so intently regarded. 

"There in the moonlight, hanging, bending limp and ap- 
parently lifeless over the hedge, was the body of a tall man. 
With arms outstretched, the figure seemed touching the ground 
with its fingers, the legs being on the other side of the hedge. 
What was his horror to see the body move ! Slowly, mechani- 
cally, the long arms were outstretched, uplifted \ the body 
swayed, up, up ; and there in the bright moonlight was the 
man's face. How ghastly it looked ! The glassy eyes were 
staring at the young man, whose blood seemed chilling in his 
veins. Motionless, upright as an elm, with outstretched arms, 
stood the gaunt spectre. Its throat was cut. 

" There stood the group. The horse terrified ; the young 
man speechless, terror-stricken, and the hideous something 
seemingly regarding them with his stony gaze, while blood 
appeared to flow from its lacerated throat. How long he 
remained Foster could not afterwards tell ; but after an 
interval that seemed an age, the horrible vision began, as 
slowly and mechanically as before, to bend its erect body 
forward, until it resumed its former position, hanging over the 

" With a mighty effort the young man induced the horse to 
move on once more; but, on looking back, he was startled 


again to see the erect figure of the nocturnal spectre — uplifted 
arms, ghastly features, and blood-red throat. Just as slowly 
as before, the tall body bent forward ; the arms dropped down, 
down, until some intervening bushes shut out the horrible 
apparition from view. 

''The horse seeming more composed, Foster mounted and 

urged him on rapidly. In due time R was reached, and 

here he found a lad awaiting him to take the horse back to 
his owner. No such vision was seen by the boy, nor was 
anything noteworthy remarked in the conduct of the horse 
during the return journey. 

" Foster reached home near midnight. Afterwards, he 
learnt that a man had been murdered on the very spot where 
he had seen the tall figure." 
Pursued by The Rev - H - Ehv yn Thomas, 35, Park Village 

a Ghost's East, N.W., has kindly written out for me a very 

spectre. re markable experience of his own which no one 
would care to have repeated. He says : — 

" Twelve years ago I was the second minister on the Bryn- 
mawr Welsh Wesleyan Circuit, in the South Wales District. 
The circuit consisted of eight churches. The smallest were 
those of Llanelty, Crickhowell, and Llangynidr. It was my 
duty to preach in each of these once a month. I commenced 
at Llanelly, where the service was held at ten o'clock. I then 
proceeded to Crickhowell for an afternoon service, and finished 
off at Llangynidr at six in the evening. The distance between 
these places was about five miles, which I mostly did on 

"It was a beautiful evening in June when, after conducting 
the service at Llangynidr, I told the gentleman with whom I 
generally stayed when preaching there, that three young 
friends had come to meet me from Crickhowell in the after- 
noon, and that I meant to accompany them back for about 
half a mile on their return journey, so would not be home 
before nine o'clock. He lived about half a mile on the other 
side of the village. 

"When I wished good-night to my friends, it was about 
twenty minutes to nine, but still light enough to see a good 
distance. The subject of our conversation all the way from 
the chapel until we parted was a certain eccentric old character 
who then belonged to the Crickhowell church. Many laugh- 
able incidents in his life had been related by my friends for 
my amusement, at which I laughed heartily again and again. 
I walked a little further down the road than I intended, in 


order to hear the end of a very amusing story about him and 
the vicar of a neighbouring parish. Our conversation had no 
reference whatever to ghosts or ghostly things. Neither were 
we in a mood befitting a ghostly visitation. Personally, I was 
a strong disbeliever in ghosts, and invariably ridiculed those 
who I then thought superstitious enough to believe in 

H When I had walked about a hundred yards away from my 
friends I saw on the bank of the canal (which runs parallel 
w.'th the road for six or seven miles) what I thought at the 
moment was an old beggar. The spot was a very lonely one. 
The nearest house was a good quarter of a mile away. The 
night was as silent as death. Not a single sound broke upon 
the silence from any quarter. I couldn't help asking myself 
where this old man had come from to such a place. I had 
not seen him in going down the road. 

" I then turned round quite unconcernedly to have another 
look at him, and had no sooner done so than I saw within 
half a yard of me one of the most remarkable and startling 
sights I hope it will ever be my lot to see. Almost on a level 
with my own face I saw that of an old man, over every 
feature of which the putty-coloured skin was drawn tightly, 
except the forehead, which was lined with deep wrinkles. The 
lips were extremely thin, and appeared perfectly bloodless. 
The toothless mouth stood half open. The cheeks were hol- 
low and sunken like those of a corpse, and the eyes, which 
seemed far back in the middle of the head, were unnaturally 
luminous and piercing. This terrible object was wrapped in 
two bands of old yellow calico, one of which was drawn under 
the chin and over the cheeks and tied at the top of the head, 
the other was drawn round the top of the wrinkled forehead, 
and fastened at the back of the head. So deep and indelible 
an impression it made on my mind, that were I an artist I 
could paint that face to-day, and reproduce the original (ex- 
cepting, perhaps, the luminous eyes) as accurately as if it were 

" What I have thus tried to describe in many words I saw at 
a glance. Acting on the impulse of the moment I turned my 
face again towards the village, and ran away from the horrible 
vision with all my might for about sixty yards. I then stopped, 
and turned round to see how far I had distanced it, and, to 
my unspeakable horror, there it was still face to face with me, 
as if I had not moved an inch. I grasped my umbrella and 
raised it to strike him, and you can imagine my feelings when 


I could see nothing between the face and the ground, except 
an irregular column of intense darkness, through which my 
umbrella went as a stick goes through water ! 

" I am sorry to confess that I again took to my heels with 
increasing speed. A little further than the place of this second 
encounter, the road which led towards my host's house 
branched off the main road, the main road itself running 
right through the centre of the village, in the lower end of 
which it ran parallelw ith the churchyard wall. Having gone 
a few yards down this branch road, I reached a crisis in my 
fear and confusion when I felt I could act rationally : I deter- 
mined to speak with my strange pursuer whatever he was, and 
I boldly turned round to face him for the third time, intending 
to ask him what he wanted, etc. 

" He had not followed me after I left the main road, but I 
could see the horribly fascinating face quite as plain as when 
it was close by. It stood for two or three minutes looking 
intently at me from the centre of the main road. I then 
realized fully it was not a human being in flesh and blood ; and 
with every vestige of fear gone I quickly walked towards it to 
put my questions. But I was disappointed, for no sooner I 
made towards it than it moved quickly in the direction of the 
village. I saw it moving along, keeping the same distance 
from the ground until it reached the churchyard wall ; it then 
crossed the wall, and disappeared near where the yew-tree 
stood inside. The moment it disappeared I became uncon- 
scious. When I came to myself two hours later, I was lying 
in the middle of the road cold and ill. It took me quite an 
hour to reach my host's house, which was less than half a mile 
away, and when I reached it I looked so white and strange 
that my host's daughter, who had sat down with her father to 
await my return, uttered a loud scream. I could not say a 
word to explain what had happened, though I tried hard 
several times. It was five o'clock in the morning when I 
regained my power of speech ; even then I could only speak 
in broken sentences. The whole of the following week I was 
laid up with great nervous prostration. 

" The strangest part of my story yet remains to be told. My 
host, after questioning me closely in regard to the features of 
the face, the place I had first seen it, and the spot where it 
disappeared, told me that fifteen years before that time an old 
recluse, answering in every detail to my description (calicoes, 
bands, and all), lived in a house whose ruins still stand close 
by where I first saw it, that he was buried in the exact spot in 


the churchyard where I saw the face disappearing, and that he 
was a very strange character altogether. 

" I should like to add that I had not heard a syllable about 
this old man before the night in question, and that all the 
persons referred to in the above story are still alive." 

The following narrative, which appeared in the 

a A uac h k°on y a Orange Free State Magazine of ten or eleven years 

Ghostly since' is sent me by a correspondent in South 

Laager. . ' J 

Africa : — 
" Some years ago a gentleman was travelling through a part 
of the then newly-founded Orange Free State in South Africa. 
Farmhouses and places of accommodation were at that time 
far apart, and one had often to travel for miles before reaching 
any of them. Railways were unknown — almost unheard of 
in the country— and the only means of conveyance the two- 
wheeled Cape cart, or the lumbering ox-wagon, drawn by its 
team of from fourteen to sixteen huge animals, yoked to it by 
heavy wooden yokes. It possessed one advantage, however, 
and that was where you had to travel for miles and miles 
through an almost wild country, infested with wild animals, 
sparsely populated, and often through the midst of savages. 
You found yourself provided with a moving home, like a ship 
at sea ; you could carry all you required with you, and even be 
ready on the defensive in case of an attack by the enemy. 
Our traveller, however, had chosen a two-wheeled C3rt, drawn 
by a couple of horses. He found one day to his dismay that, 
after crossing a river and ascending the steep bank on the 
opposite side, his horses had become too jaded to proceed 
further in order to reach the nearest farmhouse before night 
set in, as it was still some miles away. He had therefore to 
make up his mind for a night's binnar on the river's bank until 
morning. The horses were soon unharnessed, and after slaking 
their thirst in the river, and having a roll to stretch their stiff 
and wearied limbs, they were tethered to the vehicle. His 
native servants, with their usual aptitude in these things, soon 
had made every preparation for the evening meal, and the 
fragrant coffee was steaming most invitingly in the kettle by 
the hastily improvised kitchen-fire. The traveller, being tired 
with the long day's journey, soon sought repose under the 
shelter of his vehicle, in order to protect himself from the 
heavy night-dews so common in this country. It was a bril- 
liant night ; but, unfortunately, our traveller courted sleep in 
vain. Whether it was the unusual sensation of sleeping in the 
open, but he felt restless and uncomfortable, probably the 


effects of too strong a cup of coffee. At last he determined 
to get up and walk about, to try what a little exercise would 
do. What was his surprise to find that not far from his bivouac 
there was a fierce battle going on, and that a large Boer laager 1 
was being furiously attacked by hordes of savage Kaffirs, who 
seemed to swarm like ants, and were as fiercely repulsed from 
within the laager. The flash of the rifles were distinctly seen, 
but not a sound could be heard. While he was standing trans- 
fixed at the strange sight, a more than usually fierce onslaught 
was made by the Kaffirs, who desperately tried to clamber 
over the piled-up branches between the wagons —yea, and even 
over the wagons themselves — when they, were met by a volley 
of no uncertain aim, which laid several in the dust, whilst the 
rest fled with the greatest precipitation. As the traveller was 
watching the black mass in full retreat, the laager, or camp, 
seemed to open on one side, and out came a number of armed 
and mounted men in full pursuit of the enemy. They passed 
so close to where the traveller was standing that he could 
distinguish the horses, and in his excited state gave them a 
cheer, although no sound of horses' hoofs reached his ear. 
He soon retired to rest again, and after a couple of hours of 
troubled sleep he found that it was broad daylight, and soon 
prepared for a start; but where was the large camp of the 
previous evening, and where were the warriors bold and their 
gallant steeds ? All, all had disappeared as a vision of the 
flight. He soon pursued his journey, and reached the farm- 
house whither he had been bound the previous evening. The 
homestead was reached after a couple of hours' drive, and so 
impressed was he with what he had experienced that he told 
his host the whole affair before allowing himself even to partake 
of any refreshment. To his surprise, ' mine host ' seemed in 
no way surprised or discomfited, but told him that his was no 
isolated case, as the phantom laager, and the fierce attack on 
it, and pursuit by the defenders, had been witnessed by former 
travellers in that same place, and that the general belief was — ■ 
in fact it was a certainty — that in the days of the first pioneers 
into the country a large camp had stood on that very spot, 
that it had often been attacked, and had been the scene of 
many a bloody onslaught, and that ever since, at certain times 
of the year, the camp was seen, and the bloody campaign fought 
over again by the phantom bands who took part in it in the 

1 A roughly fortified camp formed of heavy ox wagons drawn into a 
square, the interstices filled up with the boughs of trees. The women 
and children inside, also the cattle at night. 


early years. Perhaps the shrill whistle of the railway which 
now runs through those parts may have scattered them, and 
succeeded in laying their ghosts. We hope so." 

Mr. R. D'Onston sends me the following com- 

" Dead or 


"To those instances in 'Real Ghost Stories' 
of ghosts who have kept promises made in life to appear to 
those dear to them, may I add my own experience ? The 
incident occurred to me some years ago, and all the details 
can be substantiated. The date was August 26th, 1867, at 
midnight. I was then residing in the neighbourhood of Hull, 
and held an appointment under the Crown which necessitated 
my repairing thither every day for a few hours' duty. My 
berth was almost a sinecure ; and I had been for some time 
engaged to a young North-country heiress, it being understood 
that on our marriage I should take her name and ' stand for 
the county/ or rather for one of its divisions. 

" For her sake I had to break off a love affair, not of the 
most reputable order, with a girl in Hull. I will call her 
Louise. She was young, beautiful, and devoted to me. On 
the night of the 26th of August we took our last walk together, 
and a few minutes before midnight paused on a wooden 
bridge running across a kind of canal, locally termed a ' drain.' 
We paused on the bridge, listening to the swirling of the 
current against the wooden piles, and waiting for the stroke of 
midnight to part for ever. In the few minutes' interval she 
repeated, sotto voce, Longfellow's ' Bridge,' the words of which 
1 1 stood on the bridge at midnight,' seemed terribly appro- 
priate. After nearly twenty -five years I can never hear that 
piece recited without feeling a deathly chill and the whole 
scene of two souls in agony again arising before me. Well ! 
midnight struck, and we parted ; but Louise said : ' Grant me 
one favour, the only one that I shall ever ask you on this 
earth: promise to meet me here twelve months to-night at this 
same hour." I demurred at first, thinking it would be bad for 
both of us, and only re-open partially-healed wounds. At last, 
however, I consented, saying : ' Well, I will come if I am 
alive ! ' but she said, ' Say alive or dead ! ' I said, ' Very 
well then, we will meet, dead or alive.' 

" The next year I was on the spot a few minutes before the 
time ; and, punctual to the stroke of midnight, Louise arrived. 
By this time, I had begun to regret the arrangement I had 
made ; but it was of too solemn a nature to be put aside. I 
therefore kept the appointment, but said that I did not care 


to renew the compact. Louise, however, persuaded me to 
renew it for one more year, and I consented, much against my 
will ; and we again left each other, repeating the same formula, 
' Dead or alive.' 

" The next year after that passed rapidly for me until the 
first week in July, when I was shot dangerously in the thigh by 
a fisherman named Thomas Piles, of Hull, a reputed smuggler. 
A party of four of us had hired his 10 ton yawl to go yachting 
round the Yorkshire coast, and amuse ourselves by shooting 
sea-birds amongst the millions of them at Flamborough Head. 
The third or fourth day out I was shot in the right thigh by the 
skipper Piles ; and the day after, one and a quarter ounce of 
No. 2 shot were cut out therefrom by the coastguard surgeon at 
Bridlington Quay (whose name I forget for the moment), 
assisted by Dr. Alexander Mackay, at the Black Lion Hotel. 
The affair was in all the papers at the time, about a column of 
it appearing in the Eastern Morning 2\ r e7c>s, of Hull. 

" As soon as I was able to be removed (two or three weeks) I 
was taken home, where Dr. Kelburne King, of Hull, attended 
me. The day — and the night — (the 26th August) came. I 
was then unable to walk without crutches, and that for only a 
short distance, so had to be wheeled about in a Bath chair. 
The distance to the trysting place being rather long, and the 
time and circumstances being very peculiar, I did not avail 
myself of the services of my usual attendant, but specially 
retained an old servant of the family, who frequently did 
confidential commissions for me, and who knew Miss Louise 
well. We set forth ' without beat of drum,' and arrived at the 
bridge about a few minutes to midnight. I remember that it 
was a brilliant starlight night, but I do not think that there 
was any moon, at .all events, at that hour. ' Old Bob,' as he 
was always affectionately called, wheeled me to the bridge, 
helped me out of the Bath chair, and gave me my crutch. I 
walked on to the bridge, and leaned my back against the white 
painted top rail, then lighted my briar-root, and had a com- 
fortable smoke. 

" I was very much annoyed that I had allowed myself to be 
persuaded to come a second time, and determined to tell 
1 Louise ' positively that this should be the last meeting. Be- 
sides, note, I did not consider it fair to Miss K., with whom I 
was again negotiating, en rapport to a certain extent. So, if 
anything, it was in rather a sulky frame of mind that I awaited 
Louise. Just as the quarters before the hour began to chime I 
distinctly heard the 'clink, clink,' of the little brass heels, 


which she always wore, sounding on the long flagged causeway, 
leading for 200 yards up to the bridge. As she got nearer I 
could see her pass lamp after lamp in rapid succession, while 
the strokes of the large clock at Hull resounded through the 
stilly night. 

" At last the patter, patter of the tiny feet sounded on the 
woodwork of the bridge, and I saw her distinctly pass under 
the lamp at the farther end — it was only twenty yards wide, 
and I stood under the lamp at my side. When she got close 
to me I saw that she had neither hat nor cape on, and con- 
cluded that she had taken a cab to the farther end of the 
flagged causeway, and (it being a very warm night) had left 
her wraps in the cab, and for purposes of effect had come the 
short distance in evening dress. 

" ' Clink, clink,' went the brass heels, and she seemed about 
passing me, when I, suddenly urged by an impulse of affection, 
stretched out my arms to receive her. She passed through 
them, intangible, impalpable, and as she looked at me I dis- 
tinctly saw her lips move, and form the words, ' Dead or alive.' 
I even heard the words, but not with my outward ears, with 
something else, some other sense — what, I know not. I felt 
startled, surprised, but not afraid, until a moment afterwards, 
when I felt, but could not see, some other presence following 
her. I could feel, though I could not hear, the heavy, clumsy 
'thud' of the feet following her; and my blood seemed 
turned to ice. Recovering myself with an effort, I shouted 
out to ' Old Bob,' who was safely ensconced with the Bath 
chair in a nook out of sight round the corner. ' Bob, who 
passed you just now?' In an instant the old Yorkshireman 
was by my side. * Ne'er a one passed me, sir ! ' ' Nonsense, 
Bob,' I replied, * I told you that I was coming to meet Miss 
Louise, and she just passed me on the bridge, and must have 
passed you, because there's nowhere else she could go ! You 
don't mean to tell me you didn't see her ? ' The old man 
replied, solemnly, ' Maister Ros, there's something uncanny 
aboot it. I heerd her come on the bridge, and off it, I'd 
knaw them clicketty heels onywhere ; but I'm dommed, sir, if 
she passed me. I'm thinking we'd better gang.' And ' gang ' 
we did ; and it was the small hours of the morning (getting 
daylight) before we left off talking over the affair, and went to 

11 The next day I made inquiries from Louise's family about 
her, and ascertained that she had died in Liverpool three 
months previously, being apparently delirious for a few hours 


before her death, and our parting compact evidently weighing 
on her mind, as she kept repeating ' Dead or Alive ! Shall I 
be there ? ' to the utter bewilderment of her friends, who could 
not divine her meaning, being of course entirely unaware of 
our agreement." 
. „ . The Rev. T. E. Lord, Vicar of Escomb, in reply 

A Curious . ' c ,. r * 

Sign of to an enquiry from me, wrote as follows : — 
Shipwreck. " jy[y sailor boy, on his return home from 
Australia, brought with him a painting of the ship Shannon^ 
which afterwards hung in his grandmother's bedroom. My 
son left London for Calcutta on the 17th January, 1885. On 
the 2nd of May, Mrs. Bowness, my mother-in-law, who kept 
house for me since the death of my wife in 1872, was sitting in 
her room with one of my daughters, aged seventeen, when 
suddenly the picture became enveloped in a bright cloud, and 
for a moment the vessel was lost to sight. My daughter, 
alarmed, rushed out of the room and called for me. Un- 
fortunately, I was out at the time. When I returned and went 
into the room nothing unusual was to be seen. 

" My mother-in-law, who died about three years ago, at the 
ripe age of eighty-eight, was a remarkably calm woman. After 
telling me what had happened, she said, ' If Jack's ship is lost, 
it is lost to-day,' and she made one of my daughters write on a 
slip of paper, 'Light on ship, May 2nd, 1885, Saturday even- 
ing, between six and seven p.m. Seen by Grannie and Kattie.' 
This she placed in her Prayer-Book, and there it has been 
ever since. 

" Knowing that the Shannon was not expected to arrive at 
Calcutta for two or three weeks at the soonest, I laughed at 
their fears. The ship, however, was never heard of afterwards. 
The vessel had a large amount of gunpowder on board, and I 
sometimes think the powder became ignited and destroyed 
the vessel. 

" I enclose Board of Trade report, which, after you have 
read, please return." 

The Board of Trade Report is numbered 2,822, and is 
signed by H. C. Rothery (Wreck Commissioner), on February 
1 2th, 1886. His report is to the effect that the Shannon left 
this country in January, 1885, in good and seaworthy con- 
dition, but that she was not sufficiently manned. 

From the Annex to the Report it appears that the Shannon 
left the East India Docks on January 17th, 1885, with a crew 
of twenty-eight hands all told, and a cargo of about 2,200 to 
2,250 tons of general merchandise, including 5 tons of gun- 


powder. She was spoken when forty-two days from London 
by a vessel called the Senator, a little to the north of the line. 
The ships remained in company for five or six days, but then 
they parted, and since that time the Shannon has never been 
seen or heard of. The Commissioner reports that it is quite 
impossible to say what may have caused the loss of the vessel. 



" . . . We cannot doubt that evil spirits in some way are always about 
us ; and I had comfort in the feeling that whatever was the need, ordinary or 
extraordinary, I should have protection against it. 

". . . How can people say what is or is not natural to evil spirits? 
What is a grotesque manifestation to us may not be so to them. What do we 
know about an evil spirit? " — Life of Cardinal Newman (Mozley, 334). 

THIS is a difficult and disagreeable subject, but none of 
our English ghosts which touch can be compared for a 
moment with the ghastly horror of the vampire, whose ex- 
istence is still in Eastern Europe an article of popular faith. 
Upon that grisly subject there is no need to speak here. 

The most remarkable of all the stories which I have heard 
concerning ghosts which touch is one that reaches me from 
Darlington. I owe this, as" I owe so many of the other 
narratives in this collection, to the Rev. Henry Kendall, of 
Darlington, whose painstaking perseverance in the collection 
of all matters of this kind cannot be too highly praised. Mr. 
Kendall is a Congregational minister of old standing. He 
was my pastor when I was editing the Northern Echo t and he 
is the author of a remarkable book, entitled, " All the World's 
Akin." The following narrative is quite unique in its way, 
and fortunately he was able to get it at first hand from the only 
living person present on the occasion. Here we have a 
ghost which not only strikes the first blow, hitting a man fair 
in the eye, but afterwards sets a ghostly dog upon his victim 
and then disappears. The narrative, which was signed by 
Mr. James Durham as lately as December 5th, 1890, is as 
follows : — 

" I was night watchman at the old Darlington and Stockton 
Station at the town of Darlington, a few yards from the first 
station that ever existed. I was there for fifteen years. I 
used to go on duty about 8 p.m. and come off at 6 a.m. I 
had been there a little while — perhaps two or three years — 
and about forty years ago. One night during winter and 
about twelve o'clock or 12.30, I was feeling rather cold with 


standing here and there ; I said to myself, 'I will away down 
and get something to eat.' There was a porters' cellar where 
a fire was kept on and a coal-house was connected with it. So 
I went down the steps, took off my overcoat, and had just 
sat down on the bench opposite the fire, and turned up the 
gas, when a strange man came out of the coal-house, followed 
by a big black retriever. As soon as he entered my eye was 
upon him and his eye upon me, and we were intently watching 
each other as he moved on to the front of the fire. There he 
stood looking at me, and a curious smile came over his 
countenance. He had a stand-up collar and a cut-away coat 
with gilt buttons and a Scotch cap. All at once he struck at 
me, and I had the impression that he hit me. I up with my 
fist and struck back at him. My fist seemed to go through 
him and struck against the stone above the fire-place, and 
knocked the skin off my knuckles. The man seemed to be 
struck back into the fire, and uttered a strange unearthly 
squeak. Immediately the dog gripped me by the calf of my 
leg, and seemed to cause me pain. The man recovered his 
position, called off the dog with a sort of click of the tongue, 
then went back into the coal-house, followed by the dog. I 
lighted my dark lantern, and looked into the coal-house, but 
there was neither dog nor man, and no outlet for them except 
the one by which they had entered. 

" I was satisfied that what I had seen was ghostly, and it 
accounted for the fact that when the man had first come into 
the place where he was sat I had not challenged him with any 
inquiry. Next day, and for several weeks, my account caused 
quite a commotion, and a host of people spoke to me about it ; 
among the rest old Edward Pease, father of railways, and his 
three sons, John, Joseph, and Henry. Old Edward sent for 
me to his house and asked me all particulars. He and others 
put this question to me, ' Are you sure you were not asleep 
and had the nightmare ? ' My answer was quite sure, for I 
had not been a minute in the cellar and was just going to get 
something to eat. I was certainly not under the influence of 
strong drink, for I was then, as I have been now for forty-nine 
years, a teetotaler. My mind at the time was perfectly free 
from trouble. 

" What increased the excitement was the fact that a man a 
number of years before, who was employed in the office of the 
station, had committed suicide, and his body had been carried 
into this very cellar. I knew nothing of this circumstance, 
nor of the body of the man, but Mr. Pease and others who 


had known him, told me my description exactly corresponded 
to his appearance and the way he dressed, and also that he 
had a black retriever just like the one which gripped me. I 
should add that no mark or effect remained on the spot where 
I seemed to be seized. 

(Signed) "James Durham." 

"December 9th, 1890." 

Commenting upon this case Mr. Kendall says : 

" Mr. Durham has attended my church for a quarter of a 
century, and I have testimony going back that length of time 
to the effect that he has given the same account of the extra- 
ordinary experience. It is a long time since he retired from 
the post of night watchman, and he has since become a 
wealthy man. He is one of the strongest men I have met 
with, able to do his forty miles a day, walking and running 
with the hounds, and not feel stiff the day after, He takes 
great pleasure in country life, and is a close observer of the 
objects which belong to it, walking and fishing forming his 
principal occupations. I forwarded his strange narrative to 
Prof. Sidgwick, the president of the S.P.R., who expressed a 
wish for fuller assurance that Mr. Durham was not asleep at 
the time of the vision. I gave in reply the following four 
reasons for believing that he w r as awake : — First, he was 
accustomed as watchman to be up all night, and, therefore, 
not likely from that cause to feel sleepy. Secondly, he had 
scarcely been a minute in the cellar, and, feeling hungry, was 
just going to get something to eat. Thirdly, if he was asleep 
at the beginning of the vision, he must have been awake 
enough during the latter part of it when he had knocked the 
skin off his knuckles. Fourthly, there is his own confident 
testimony. I strongly incline to the opinion that there was an 
objective cause for the vision, and that it was genuinely ap- 
paritional. At the same time I see that it w r as shaped and 
coloured to some extent by the percipient's own temperament, 
as apparitions often are. Mr. Durham, with the habit of a 
watchman, when he sees anything in the least degree sus- 
picious, is immediately on the alert, doubtful and inquiring till 
he obtains satisfaction ; and it is significant that when the 
apparition entered the cellar they immediately eyed each 
other and continued doing so all the time, while the appari- 
tion moved on to the front of the fire. 

" Again, Mr. D. is a believer in physical force, prompt, 
decisive, not disposed to brook any delay, but wishing a man 
to come to the point with him there and then ; and it corres- 


ponds with the quality in him that the man all at once 
struck out at him, and that he struck back again, and that 
the dog gripped him, and was then called off and imme- 
diately retired with his master. It is the only instance which 
I remember in which an apparition attempted to injure, 
and even in this solitary instance there was no real harm 
Writing on October 22nd, this year, Mr. Kendall says : — 
"To-day I have visited the scene of the battle with the 
ghost, under the guidance of an old official who was at the 
North Road Station during all the period in question. The 
porters' room down the steps is still there, and the coal house 
and even the gas bracket. A person could get out of the 
coal house if he tried. My guide remembers the clerk who 
committed suicide, and he showed me the place where he 
shot himself with a pistol. His name was Winter. He left 
a wife, but no children. He was no doubt in trouble, from 
which he fled by suicide. He dressed and had a dog as 
described. The explanation accepted by the stationmaster 
and men at the time was that Mr. D. had had a five-minutes' 
nap. This was, of course, a gratuitous supposition on their 
part, as they were not there, and Mr. D., who was, declares he 
was wide awake. Even if he had dozed, there would still 
remain the remarkable correspondence between what was seen 
and the habits of the suicide when living, and which were 
unknown to the percipient." 

Three days later Mr. Kendall wrote me again, sending 
a plan of the scene of this strange nocturnal combat. The 
fireplace is now bricked up, and this is the only change. He 
writes : — 

" After looking at both sides, I must say the accuracy of 
Mr. D.'s account seems to remain unimpeached, though, of 
course, it is not evidential after the high standard of the 
Psychical Society. A strong, sober man is likely to know 
whether he was asleep or not at such a crisis. 

" One objection has been made to this effect : Mr. D. had a 
cabin at the level crossing, and there was his post. What was 
he doing down in the porter's room at the station ? But it 
was long since he left the crossing. For fifteen years he was 
watchman at the station and round about it, and during that 
time the porters' room was his proper place if he wanted to sit 
down by a fire and take some refreshment. 

" The room is not used by the porters now. The station is 
homely and old-fashioned, but interesting as successor of the 


first that ever was, which was a few yards away across the 
Durham Road. The No. i engine, run on the day of opening, 
with George Stephenson as driver, stands in front, exposed 
to wind and weather." 
A Russian Mr. W. D. Addison, who dates from Riga, 
Ghost. sends me the following curious personal experi- 
ence of a struggle with a ghost, which may be read as a 
pendant to the fight with the ghost at Darlington : — 

"It was in February, 1884, that the incidents which I am 
about to relate occurred to me, and the story is well known to 
my immediate friends. 

" Five weeks previously my wife had presented me with our 
first baby, and our house being a small one, I had to sleep on 
a bed made up in the drawing-room, a spacious but cosy 
apartment, and the last place one would expect ghosts to 
select for their wanderings. 

" On the night in question I retired to my couch soon after 
ten, and fell asleep almost the moment I was between the 

" Instead of, as I am thankful to say is my habit, sleeping 
straight through till morning, I woke up after a short, dream- 
less sleep with the dim consciousness upon me that some one 
had called me by name. I was just turning the idea over in 
my mind when all doubts were solved by my hearing my 
name pronounced in a faint whisper, ' Willy ! ' Now the 
nurse who was in attendance on the baby, and who slept in 
the dressing-room adjoining our bedroom, had been ill for the 
past few days, and on the previous evening my wife had come 
and asked me to assist her with the baby. As soon, therefore, 
as I heard this whisper, I turned round, thinking, ' Ah ! it is 
the baby again.' 

" The room had three windows in it ; the night was moonless 
but starlit; there was snow on the ground, and, therefore, 
' snowlight,' and the blinds being up the room was by no 
means dark. 

" The first thing I noticed on turning round was the figure 
of a woman close to the foot of my bed, and which, following 
the bent of my thoughts, I supposed was my wife. ' What is 
up ? ' I asked, but the figure remained silent and motionless, 
and my eyes being more accustomed to the dimness, I noticed 
that it had a grey-looking shawl over its head and shoulders, 
and that it was too short of stature to be my wife. I gazed at 
it silently, wondering who it could be ; apparitions and ghosts 
were far from my thoughts, and the mistiness of the outlines 


of this silent figure did not strike me at the moment as it did 

" I again addressed it, this time in the language of the 
country, ' What do you want ? ' Again no answer. And 
now it occurred to me that our servant girl sometimes walked 
in her sleep, and that this was she. Behind the head of my 
bed stood a small table, and I reached round for the match- 
box which was on it, never removing my eyes from the sup- 
posed somnambulist. The match-box w T as now in my hands, 
but just as I was taking out a lucifer, the figure, to my 
astonishment, seemed to rise up from the floor and move 
backwards towards the end window ; at the same time it faded 
rapidly, and became blurred with the grey light streaming in 
at the window, and ere I could strike the match it was gone. 
I lighted the candle, jumped out of bed and ran to the door : 
it was fastened. To the left of the drawing-room there was a 
boudoir, separated only by a curtain : this room was empty too, 
and the door likewise fastened. 

11 1 rubbed my eyes. I was puzzled. It struck me now for 
the first time that the figure from the beginning had been 
hazy-looking, also that my wife was the only person who called 
me * Willy,' and certainly the only person who could give the 
name its English pronunciation. I first searched both 
drawing-room and boudoir, and then, opening the door, 
stepped into the passage, and went to my wife's door and 
listened. The baby was crying, and my wife was up, so I 
knocked and was admitted. Knowing her to be strong- 
minded and not nervous, I quietly related my experience. 
She expressed astonishment, and asked me if I was not 
afraid to return to my bed in the drawing-room. However, I 
was not, and after chatting for a few moments went back to 
my quarters, fastened the door, and getting into bed, thought 
the whole matter over again quietly. I could think of no ex- 
planation of the occurrence, and feeling sleepy, blew out the 
light and was soon sound asleep again. 

"After a short but sound and dreamless slumber, I was 
again awake, this time with my face towards the middle 
window ; and there, close up against it, was the figure again, 
and owing to its propinquity to the light, it appeared to be a 
very dark object. 

M I at once reached out for the matches, but in doing so 
upset the table, and down it went with the candlestick, my 
watch, keys, etc., making a terrific crash. As before, I had 
kept my eyes fixed on the figure, and I now observed that, 


whatever it was, it was advancing straight towards me, and in 
another moment retreat to the door would be cut off. It was 
not a comfortable idea to cope with the unknown in the dark, 
and in an instant I had seized the bed-clothes, and grasping 
a corner of them in each hand and holding them up before me, 
I charged straight at the figure. (I suppose I thought that 
by smothering the head of my supposed assailant I could best 
repel the coming attack.) 

" The next moment I had landed on my knees on a sofa 
by the window with my arms on the window-sill, and with 
the consciousness that ' it ' was now behind me, I having 
passed through it. With a bound I faced round, and was 
immediately immersed in a darkness impalpable to the 
touch, but so dense that it seemed to be weighing me down 
and squeezing me from all sides. I could not stir ; the bed- 
clothes which I had seized as described hung over my left 
arm, the other was free, but seemed pressed down by a be- 
numbing weight. I essayed to cry for help, but realised for 
the first time in my life what it means for the tongue to cleave 
to the roof of the mouth ; my tongue seemed to have become 
dry and to have swelled to a thickness of some inches ; it 
stuck to the roof of my mouth, and I could not ejaculate a 
syllable. At last, after an appalling struggle, I succeeded in 
uttering, and I knew that disjointed words, half prayer, half 
execrations of fear, left my lips, then my mind seemed to 
make one frantic effort, there seemed to come a wrench like 
an electric shock, and my limbs were free; it was as if 
I tore myself out of something. In a few seconds I had 
reached and opened the door and was in the passage listen- 
ing to the hammerings of my heart-beats. All fear was 
gone from me, but I felt as though I had run miles for 
my life and that another ten yards of it would have killed 

" I again went to the door of my wife's room, and hearing 
that she was up with the baby, I knocked and she opened. 
She is a witness to the state I was in : the drops were pouring 
down my face, my hair was damp, and the beatings of my 
heart were audible some paces off. 

" I can offer no explanations of what I saw, but as soon as 
my story became known, the people who had occupied the 
house previously told us that they had once put up a visitor 
in that same drawing-room, who had declared the room to be 
haunted and refused to stay in it. 

" The previous summer, while staying at the seaside, we 


had left a respectable, staid old woman as caretaker, and she 
now came forward with the story that one evening in June of 
that year (1883), as she was fastening up the windows of this 
drawing-room before going to bed, something which she could 
not describe passed through the room, and at the same 
moment an indescribable panic seized her, causing her to 
flee headlong from the room. So alarmed was she that she 
went outside the house, and dared not re-enter it, but as she 
could not leave it unprotected she sat on the doorstep all 

" I may state that the drawing-room is 35 ft. from the ground, 
and so there is no question of the appearances in question 
being the shadows of passers-by ; moreover, the house is in 
private grounds, the gate of which is closed at night, and in 
possession of a watchman. 

" I had better conclude by saying that I am not nervous, and 
often have occasion to sleep in a large empty house with not 
even a servant in it. I do not suffer from any affection of the 
heart, and am perfectly sound in every way. Friends who 
have listened to my tale have invariably favoured me with 
some kind explanation of their own, but not one of which 
met the case. Some said * Nightmare ' ! My story distinctly 
disproves anything of the sort. I woke up quietly, thinking 
I had been called by name, and when the call was repeated 
I turned round, thinking my wife wanted me to help her with 
the baby. When, too, I saw the strange figure, I did not 
immediately think — ' Hollo, here is a ghost 1 ' but reasoned to 
myself that it must be the servant walking in her sleep; in 
fact, all through the first experience I was clear-headed and 
calm, and even when the figure vanished I still sought for 
some ordinary explanation of the occurrence. 

" I know that people sometimes wake up suddenly in the 
night in an unaccountable state of fear, but which lasts only 
a few moments while they are collecting their thoughts which 
have been disturbed by some dream which, perhaps, they 
cannot even call to mind. 

11 Some friends who study neither almanack nor sky argued 
that it was the shadow of a cloud passing over the moon, but 
there was no moon in the sky that night. 

"As for my food on the evening in question, I had dined 
at 6.30 on clear soup, roast mutton, and apple souftle', washed 
down with half a bottle of Lager beer, and topped by a single 
glass of sherry. 


" In the evening, before turning in, I had been reading 
Chatles O'Malley over again for the second time. 

"W. D. Addison.'' 
a Soldier's The phenomenon of being touched or grasped 
story. by a ghost is by no means unusual. Here, for 
instance, is a very curious story sent me by Major C. G. 
MacGregor, who writes from Donaghadee, County Down, 
Ireland. Major MacGregor is not a believer in ghosts, and, 
according to his own account, is without any physical fear or 
nervousness. He has furnished me with the names and 
addresses necessary to complete the story, which is as 
follows : — ■ 

"In the end of the year 187 1 I went over from Scotland to 
make a short visit to a relative living in a square on the north 
side of Dublin. 

"In January, 1872, the husband of my relative, then in his 
eighty-fourth year, took paralysis, and having no trained nurse, 
the footman and I sat up with him for sixteen nights during 
his recovery. On the seventeenth night at about 11.30 p.m., 
I said to the footman, ' The master seems so well, and sleeping 
soundly, I shall go to bed ; and if he awake worse, or you 
require me, call me/ I then retired to my room, which was 
over the one occupied by the invalid. 

" I went to bed and was soon asleep, when some time 
afterwards I was awakened by a push on the left shoulder. I 
was at the time lying on my right side facing the door (which 
was on the right side of my bed, and the fireplace on the left). 
I started up and said, ' Edward, is there anything wrong ? ' 
I received no answer, but immediately received another push. 
I got annoyed, and said, ' Can you not speak, man, and tell 
me if anything is wrong?' Still no answer, and I had a 
feeling I was going to get another push, when I suddenly 
turned round and caught (what I then thought) a human 
hand, warm, soft, and plump. I said, 'Who are you?' but I 
got no answer. I then tried to pull the person towards me, 
to endeavour to find out who it was, but although I was nearly 
thirteen stone I could not move whoever it was, but felt I 
myself was likely to be drawn from the bed. I then said, ' I 
will know who you are,' and having the hand tight in my 
right hand, with my left I felt the wrist and arm, enclosed, 
as it seemed to me, in a tight sleeve of some winter material 
with a linen cuff j but when I got to the elbow all trace of an 
arm ceased. I was so astonished I let the hand go, and just 
then the house clock struck 2 a.m. I then thought no one 


could possibly get to the door without my catching them ; 
but, lo ! the door was fast shut as when I came to bed, and 
another thought struck me : when I pulled the hand I heard 
no one breathing, though I myself was puffed from the strength 
I used. 

" Including the mistress of the house, there were five 
females, and I can assert the hand belonged to no one of 
them. When I related the adventure the servants exclaimed, 
1 Oh, it must be the master's old aunt Betty, who had lived for 
many years in the upper part of that house, occupying two 
rooms, and had died over fifty years before, at a great age.' 
I afterwards learned that the room in which I felt the hand 
had been considered haunted, and many curious noises and 
peculiar incidents occurred, such as the bed-clothes torn off. 
One lady got a slap in the face from some invisible hand, 
and when she lighted her candle she saw as if something 
opaque fell or jumped off the bed. A general officer, a brother 
of the lady, slept there two nights, but he preferred going 
to an hotel to remaining a third. He never would say what 
he heard or saw, but always said the room was uncanny. I 
slept for months in that room afterwards, and was never in the 
least disturbed. I never knew what nervousness was in my 
life, and only regretted my astonishment caused me to let 
go the hand before finding out the purpose of the visit. 
Whether it was meant for a warning or not, I may add the 
old gentleman lived three years and six months afterwards." 
An Eerie story ^ r * Athol Murray sends me a curious tale from 
from the the very far North, which is unique in its way. I 
s et an s. ^ Q ^ q UOte - t as i iavm g anv evidential value, 

but only as a sample of the narratives repeated in good faith 
by the superstitious inhabitants of these remote islands. Mr. 
Athol Murray's story is to this effect: that one day in 1830, 
a fisherman of the name of Grey found that when returning 
from fishing his boat stopped without any apparent cause. In 
vain he strained at the oars ; it would not move a foot. He 
looked over the prow, thinking he might have got entangled 
in seaweed, but the water was clear. He thought he might 
have struck on a hidden shoal, and rocked the boat. She 
rocked freely, showing there was water under her keel. Grey 
then looked over the stern, and to his horror he saw a man, 
whom he knew had been dead for six months, holding on to 
the stern post. This man was one with whom he had had 
some little quarrel, and Grey besought him to free the boat, 
saying that he had hoped that death would have cancelled all 


enmity between them. Without replying, the man still held 
on, and at last, in despair, Grey took his axe and hacked off 
the stern post, when the boat at once shot forward. The 
man, however, cried out that he and Grey should meet again 
in six weeks. Grey, in great fear, hastened home and told 
his family and friends of the occurrence. In six weeks, at the 
exact time the dead man had named, Grey was found in the 
morning dead in bed. A son of Robert Grey, who saw the 
mutilated boat come in, was, at any rate as late as 1875, 
keeping a sailors' boarding-house in Antwerp ; but there are 
many in the Shetland Isles who well remember the circum- 
stances, and seeing the boat with the stern post cut off. 
The Touch of I nave received many strange communications, 
a \i ni J hed but the following, which was sent me by Mr. J. 
McDowall, of 48, Clyde Street, Calton, Glasgow, 
is one of the strangest, both from the narrative itself and the 
voucher which accompanies it. The voucher, signed by Mr. 
McDowall, is as follows : — 

"This short sketch I believe to be literally true on the 
ground of my grandmother's word. My mother was con- 
versant with the matter from her youth, with hearing her 
mother tell the story. I am myself a spiritualist, and for many 
years I have enjoyed open communion with the spirit world 
by means of a clairvoyant whom I put to sleep, when the other 
world becomes as visible to him then as this world is to our 
ordinary senses. I only wish to say that through this clair- 
voyant I sent for the spirit of my grandmother, and read to 
her a first draft of this sketch. She corrected it in one or two 
points, and said that it is correct." 

Here is the communication : — 

" About the middle of the first decade of this century, there 
lived in the little seaport town of Girvan, in South Ayrshire, a 
young man and his sister ; they were warmly attached to each 
other. My grandmother, from whom I heard their story, was 
intimately acquainted with the young woman. The brother 
followed the precarious and dangerous avocation of the fisher, 
and our story begins with the loss of his life by the swamping 
of his boat in a storm. 

" For a week or two his sister was inconsolable ; her mind 
dwelt in imagination on the loved form of her brother tossed 
amongst the weeds and ooze on the bed of the ocean, the food 
for fishes, and the dwelling place for creeping things. 

" One night, about a fortnight after the sad accident, there 
came to the town, in the pursuit of his calling, a pedlar; h$ 


sought and obtained lodgings for the night, and had for a 
bedfellow a native of the town. 

" Whether he had informed the pedlar of the sad event or 
no, I could not say, but any way the pedlar could not get to 
sleep for a persistent dream or vision, which anon turned up 
as he was on the point of falling off to sleep. In the vision 
he saw a stretch of rocky shore, and, oh, horror ! amongst the 
rocks, and rising and falling as the waves advanced or receded, 
was the mutilated form of a man. He awoke his companion 
and told him the dream, the physical characteristics of which 
were conspicuous because of a hill which rose up almost from 
the shore. His bedfellow, being a native of the place, identi- 
fied the description with a place on the beach about half a 
mile north of the harbour, and when daylight broke together 
they went to the place, and found the dream confirmed by 
finding the body of a man, much decomposed, and with the 
right hand missing. The body was identified as that of the 
young woman's brother; and if the vague imaginings of her 
mind put daggers into the hands of her grief, the spectacle of 
the mutilated form of her brother drove them home to her 
very heart. The loss of the hand seemed to give point and 
force to her sorrow ; her mind, perhaps, was entangled in the 
labyrinths of a physical resurrection, and could not see how 
the missing hand was to be restored. Anyway, ever and anon, 
she would burst out into a fit of weeping, wringing her own 
hands, and bewailing the loss of her brother's hand. 

" This continued for about a week, until one night, prepara- 
tory to going to bed, she had undressed ; but before she had 
got into bed, overcome by the force of her emotions, she threw 
her face on the pillow and burst out weeping, and bemoaning 
the lost hand, but scarcely had she done so when, with a cry 
of fear, she sprang from the bed. 

" Her cries soon brought the other inmates of the house 
to her room, and when questioned, she informed them that 
when she had thrown herself on the bed, she felt some one 
give her a slap on the back, as if with the open hand ; and 
that the place where she was struck was still pricking from the 
effects of the blow, and put her hand over her shoulder to 
point out the place she was struck. 

" They examinated the place, and over the shoulder blade, 
in livid blue, was the impression of a man's right hand. 

« J. McDowall. 

"48, Clyde Street, Calton, Glasgow." 

Mr. Thomas Mayfield, of Godmanchester, Hants, sends me 


the following account of a ghost with a very disagreeable 
method of making its presence felt : — 

" Charles Mayfield was sleeping in the Bell at Stukeley, 
three miles from Huntingdon, in the year 1833. In the night 
my father felt some one pulling the bedclothes off, and looking 
up saw the landlord tugging away at the bedclothes. Upon 
being spoken to the apparition vanished, and afterwards my 
father discovered that the landlord, Joseph Kendall, died in 
the next room at that hour." 

In this connection I will only quote a single 
o/a^speSai case from the "Proceedings of the Psychical Re- 
Hand. searc h Society." It is a very remarkable one, 
because the ghost in this case was minus the middle finger, 
and was unknown to the person whom he touched : — 

" We went upstairs together, I being perhaps a couple of 
steps behind my friend, when, on reaching the topmost step, 
I felt something suddenly slip behind me from an unoccupied 
room to the left of the stairs. Thinking it must be imagin- 
ation, no one being in the house except the widow and servant, 
who occupied rooms on another landing, I did not speak to 
my friend, who turned off to a room on the right, but walked 
quickly into my room, which faced the staircase, still feeling 
as though a tall figure was bending over me. I turned on the 
gas, struck a light, and was in the act of applying it when I felt 
a heavy grasp in my arm of a hand minus the middle finger. 
Upon this I uttered a loud cry, which brought my friend, the 
widow lady, and the servant girl, into the room to inquire the 
cause of my alarm. The two latter turned very pale on hear- 
ing the story. The house was thoroughly searched, but 
nothing was discovered. 

"Some weeks passed, and I had ceased to be alarmed at 
the occurrence, when I chanced to mention it whilst spending 
the afternoon with some friends. A gentleman asked me if I 
had ever seen a description or seen a 'carte' of the lady's 
late husband. On receiving a reply in the negative, he said, 
singularly enough, he was tall, had a slight stoop, and had lost 
the middle finger of his hand. On my return I inquired of 
the servant, who had been in the family from childhood, 
if such were the case, and learned that it was quite correct, 
and that she (the girl) had once, when sleeping in the same 
room, been awakened by feeling some one pressing down her 
knees, and on opening her eyes she saw her late master by the 
bedside, on which she fainted, and had never dared to enter 
the room after dusk since. I did not see anything. I may 


say that I am not in the least nervous or superstitious, had 
been reading nothing of an excitable character, and whilst 
walking upstairs had my mind occupied in conjectures as 
to whether the key of my watch was upstairs or down. I had 
slept in the room for eight months and never before ex- 
perienced anything of the kind." (Vol. V. p. 465.) 

Some * w ^ c * ose 'kis chapter with some more agree- 

pieasanter able experiences. All the way from Jerusalem a 

Touches. j ac jy senc i s me an account of a hallucination of 
touch which was distinctly of a pleasurable nature : — 

"About seven years ago I was in great trouble, and away 
from all near friends. One night, on retiring to rest, I was 
oppressed with a sense of my utter loneliness. About two or 
three o'clock I awoke, and was immediately conscious of 
some one standing at my head, and gently stroking my hair in 
a caressing manner, such as two dear friends, then dead, had 
been in the habit of doing. I felt no surprise nor fear, only a 
feeling of being loved and helped, and great comfort came to 
my sad heart. Then it ceased; and only then I began to 
wonder who or what it was." 

Mrs. Woodcock has had a similar pleasant experience, al- 
though in this case it was not a stroking of the hair, but a 
mother's kiss. Her narrative is as follows :— 

"My mother died on June 25th, 1879, at Driffield, in York- 
shire. Her death was a peculiarly painful one, and a great 
blow to us all. The same month in which she died we 
removed to Hull. In October of the same year I was 
suddenly awakened by feeling her kiss me on my mouth, and 
she smiled so sweetly, just as she used to do in life, and said, 
' Get up, Sophia.' It was all so very natural that it was quite 
two minutes before I realised that my mother had been dead 
four months. As soon as she had spoken those three words 
she turned to go into her own bedroom, or what would have 
been her own bedroom if she had lived to go to Hull with us. 
I raised myself upon my elbow and watched her go down two 
short steps, then up five broader ones, along a few feet of 
landing, open her bedroom door, and shut it ; all done 
naturally and deliberately. She had on her nightgown and a 
wrap thrown over her shoulders just exactly as a mother does 
look when she is popping about into her children's rooms 
in the early morning. Almost instantly I awoke my sister 
Mary, who slept with me, and told her that mother had been 
to our bedside; but it agitated her very much, she being 
a remarkably nervous girl, and she tried to persuade me I had 


been dreaming, but I can never think so ; and it has been 
a great comfort to me to dwell upon that supernatural (in one 
sense) though most perfectly natural visit (in another)." 

A great friend of mine, with whom I was discussing the 
question, informed me that at the moment when her father 
died — at a distance of some hundred miles — she was conscious 
of his presence with her ; she felt as if he had taken her in his 
arms as he used to do when she was a little child, and a 
feeling of inexpressible joy filled her heart. 



" We are such stuff as dreams are made of, and our little life is rounded with 

a sleep." 

" r\REAMS, books, are each a world," says Wordsworth, 
■*~J but while of the world of books whole Alexandrian 
libraries and Bodleians have been written, how little attention 
has been devoted to the world of dreams ! In Dreamland we 
spend all of us at least one-fourth, most of us one-third, ot 
our lives. But to consider the life we lead in Dreamland is 
regarded as a waste of time. He is supposed to be but half- 
witted who even thinks about his dreams. Yet, although 
there are multitudes and myriads of dreams, idle and vain 
and meaningless as the shapes of the mist of the marsh, it 
is not so with all dreams. We have all had " a dream which 
was not all a dream," and some have lived more vividly and 
intensely in dreams than ever they have lived in their waking 
moments. In dreams are the keys to many mysteries. Holy 
Writ is full of dreams. The New Testament opens with the 
dream of Joseph and closes with the apocalyptic vision of 
John in Patmos. After the Bible, the most popular book in 
the English language is the Dream of the Bedford tinker. 
But to-day no one seems to care for dreams, and it is assumed 
that the age of the dreamer is past, and that visions are no 

It is not so, and it never will be so as long as 
° ne iife i . rd 0I one-third of existence is spent in sleep. The lack 
of careful and intelligent study of dreams leaves 
the common people a prey to the ineffable folly of the dream- 
books — a form of literature much more widely circulated than 
the classics. A generation which finds itself repaid in the 
study— close, minute, and elaborate — of the habits of earth- 
worms, and the genealogy of the marine ascidian, may some 
day discover that Dreamland lies vacant and unexplored. In 
all the voluminous literature of scientific psychology is there 
one authentic human document wherein there is due note 


and observation made of the dreams of a single student for a 
year, for a month, or for even a week ? In dreams the sub- 
conscious soul asserts its existence. In dreams we see without 
eyes, hear without ears, and transport ourselves without an 
effort to the uttermost parts of the world. We are emancipated 
from the slavery of the material senses. In dreams we have a 
foretaste of the freedom and the capacity of spiritual existence. 
There are some souls which either never dream, 
A dreams! ° f or which are so constituted that there is no bridge 

of memory between their conscious and their sub- 
conscious selves. But there are others who dream constantly, 
and who remember their dreams. One such exceptionally 
gifted dreamer is Mrs. Georgina F., whose vivid narrative of 
how her dead lover kept his promise was one of the most 
weird and pathetic of all the incidents in " Real Ghost Stories." 
She has had all manner of dreams from her childhood up — 
dreams of things to come, dreams of her own death, and 
dreams, too, of the life after death, of heaven and of hell, 
which seem to me almost unique, from their strange, homely 
realism and their almost grotesque originality. Macaulay's 
description of Dante, as the man who had been in hell, 
recurs to the mind on reading these strange visions, told with- 
out an attempt at literary art, the things seen being jotted 
down just as they occurred, with a minute particularity ot 
detail that is the best evidence that the writer is describing 
what she saw, and not what she laid herself out to imagine. 
Leaving over for the present her vision of her own corpse 
and her dream of heaven, I will quote here from two of her 
dreams, the first being a remarkable premonition of what she 
afterwards saw on the other side of the Atlantic. 

Let me disarm my critics by admitting without 
Af dream! ns reserve that I make no claim whatever for any 

evidential value for this dream. I know that she 
told me, some years before she went to America, that she had 
dreamed of what she would see there ; and I know also that 
when she got there she wrote and told me that she had found 
everything as she had dreamed it. Knowing Mrs. F. for some 
years, I do not doubt that she is speaking the truth, but my 
belief is not evidence, and the legal evidence which I might 
have had if I had taken notes or preserved letters is now 
impossible. It is evident also that in some points she herself 
was only conscious of the dream after she had visited the 
place. This is a common experience. There are probably 
few persons who have not, at some time or other, on arriving 



at a strange place, found it strangely familiar. We feel we 
have some time or other been there before. All that, of 
course, is strictly subjective. We cannot prove it, we only 
know it, and it is but seldom that we can locate the dream 
in which we foresaw, in sleep, the place or the events which 
we witness again in the light of day. Without more preamble, 
here is Mrs. F.'s story : — 

a dream with " during t1ie > 7ear lSS 7' * decided on making a 
a preface, journey to Buffalo, the capital of Erie County, 

New York State, and close to Niagara Falls. I 
was prevented by other business affairs from carrying out my 
intention until the beginning of 1891. I did not know any 
person in Buffalo, had never read any description of the place, 
nor had I seen any picture of it. I tried all over London to 
obtain such but failed, and though I met many persons who 
had been in the States, I never could meet one who had been 
to or could tell me what the city of Buffalo was like. Between 
1887 and 1 89 1 I had three dreams, about a year apart, and 
each dream exactly the same. It was only on the first 
occasion, however, that I dreamed what I may call the preface 
to the dream. I dreamed of being in a strange country. I 
had just arrived. When I got ashore and a short distance 
from where I landed, I saw curious, very tall poles ; and in 
fact, on getting nearer, I saw they were very irregular trunks 
of trees, supporting what seemed to be telegraph wires. The 
neighbourhood was rough, street paving very bad, and I 
noticed advertisements all over everywhere. On crossing the 
road, I stopped a working man who was passing, and asked 
in which direction I should go to get to the central part of 
the city. He told me to keep straight on to the left, which I 
did. I then woke up and lay thinking for about five minutes. 
11 1 fell asleep again and dreamed the first of the 
Th dJe 1 am. fold tm " ee dreams proper. I did not seem now to 

have any knowledge or consciousness of where I 
had been in the preface to my dream, but I found myself 
walking about in a place I had never before been in ; I did 
not know if it was a city, town, or suburbs of a town. I 
fancied it the latter, as there were trees everywhere along the 
streets, and few people about. I remarked the particular 
nature of the soil in the roads. I walked along a street 
overarched by fine trees, and was looking for a particular 
number, where lived, as I had been told, the person I wanted 
to see on business. I saw a small house with about four 
steps up to the door. The door stood open j I had my foot 


on the first step, and was going to knock and ask where in the 
street that number was, the street being a very long one, when 
a woman in a white apron appeared at the door, and replied 
to my question. I then walked down the street, found the 
number, but on stopping opposite it I seemed to doubt that 
it was really there the person I wanted lived. I passed on 
and came to a turning down which I could see through a 
long straight avenue of thick, green trees, what looked like 
the sea or some large water, but it was a long way off, at the 
very bottom of the avenue. The sun was shining ; I thought 
I had had a long journey, and that having so far reconnoitred 
the place, as I was tired, I would return home and leave 
further business till later on or next day. I was on my way 
home when some person addressed me on the street, but in 
my recollection of the dream, this item was very indistinct, 
and I could not tell if male or female, or what they said. 
In the dream I did not seem to know what country I was in, 
nor the name of the city, nor where I came from, nor how I 
got there ; I had a sort of feeling of having gone there before 
fate intended me to have gone, but I felt, too, that I was not 
responsible for being there, and had got to the place without 
a conscious deliberate intention of going to it. I was some- 
what surprised at finding myself there, and thinking how queer 
to be there and not even know in what quarter of the world 
I was in if any one asked me. I had also an indistinct 
feeling that the business I had to go there on was not going 
to get done during that visit, but that I should have to leave 
and come another time; still, this feeling was indistinct, and I 
still intended calling on the person next day. I then ceased 
dreaming. This dream was repeated in all its details three 

" On arriving in New York in 1S91, a gentleman 

fa^New York! Wn0 WaS t0 * iaVe met me 0n m y arr ^ va ^ &i ie d to 

' do so, owing to the boat arriving at a different 
time from what was expected. While waiting for my baggage 
to pass the Customs, I stood looking out beyond the great 
wide exit leading from the Customs office and landing stage 
to the public street. I there saw the tall poles and other 
things, and felt quite sure that I had been there before. The 
place seemed all familiar, but I did not at that moment 
remember my dream. I sent my baggage by the express to 
an hotel, and then walked across the road to a corner of a 
street, and seeing tram tracks and a car coming along in the 
distance, I spoke to a man who was passing to ask him if 


the cars went to any place close to the G.P.O., or Broadway, 
and if so in which direction the car I should take would go. 
Almost before he had replied, I seemed to recognise the 
man's face and red necktie, and then all my dream came 
suddenly to my mind as he replied : ' Yes, Miss, this car 
coming up will take you straight as you can go to Washington 

Market, and it is about blocks up Street to the Post 


" The direction was, as in the dream, to the left, 
And in BuffdIo 'and in a straight line. I was so astonished at my 
unconsciously carrying out the dream by speaking to the man, 
and at seeing surrounding objects as in the dream, that I let 
the first car pass, and waited for the next one, so as to take 
a good look around from where I stood. I saw as I went 
along in the next car several points, places, and things, which 
I recognised from the dream. I went to my hotel, and 
remained some time in New York City before going to Buffalo. 
It was near midnight when I first arrived in the latter city. 
I put up that night at an hotel beside the railway station. I 
was awake before 6 a.m. next (Sunday) morning. I got up, 
dressed, and went out to view the town, being anxious to see 
at once if it would turn out to be the same place I had thrice 
seen in my dreams. On getting to a central part I began to 
recognise first of all the soil and the trees, and all at once, 
on turning a corner, there, exactly as I dreamed it, was the 
long street arched by trees, and being so early, and on a 
Sunday, there were hardly any persons to be seen in the 
streets, just as I dreamed. There, too, on looking down 
Court Street, I saw the water I took in the dream to be the 
sea, but which was really Lake Erie, at the bottom of the 
avenue of trees. I could not see any one about to ask in 

which part of the street No. was likely to be in. The 

numbers seemed to be very irregular, and many houses were 
unnumbered. As I turned to go back I saw a woman with a 
white apron standing outside the open door on the top step 
of the very house of my dream. I crossed the road and asked 

her, and she sent me in the same direction for No. as in 

the dream. Now, the most curious part of all is that when I 
got to the number that I had been given by a Government 
official as being the residence of the person I had to call on, 
I walked past it two or three times, looking at it, and felt 
as good as certain, notwithstanding the street and number 
being correct, that the person wanted did not live in that 
house. I cannot tell by what instinct or second-sight I knew 


this, but I was so certain that I did not even go and ask, 
but instead I walked along, feeling that I would know when I 
got in front of whichever house he did live in that that was 
the right house. Well, I walked on till I came to a turning 
and a crossing, and although that particular street did not end 
there, but ran perhaps a couple of miles on further past that 
turning and crossing, still I felt as if I must cross over there 
and walk back again, but on the other side. So on I went, 
and in getting in front of a house within about two houses of 
being opposite to the one I felt he did not live in, I knew 
that I had found the right one. I noted the number, and 
being Sunday I decided I could do no business that day, so 
I started off, feeling quite satisfied about that house, to have 
breakfast at my hotel — it was only about 8.15 a.m. I halted 
and looked back and dow r n streets as I went, and as I stood 
there came up to me a gentleman who offered to show me 
where the institutions were I wanted to see. I went along 
with him, as he was in any case going in my direction, and 
they were almost on the way to my hotel. This was the 
fulfilling of the person addressing me in the street on my way 
home in my dream. Next morning I called upon a City 
official connected with the matter in hand, and on asking if 
the person whose house I had been looking for the previous 

day was living at No. , he replied, ' Oh, no ! That's 

their old residence ; they left that house some couple of years 

ago, and are now living at No. , almost opposite.' So it 

turned out that I was right in both dream and reality, and in 
the latter, the house I felt certain he did reside in was the 
right one." 

This vision of Buffalo from London, thrice-repeated with 
curious exactitude, was verified, it would seem, to the letter. 
The second thrice-repeated dream has not been verified, and 
cannot be verified in the nature of things on this side the 
grave. From whatever point of view it is regarded, it cannot 
be deemed to be a very sombre and original vision of the 
antechamber of Hell. 

" I three times dreamed the same dream, once 
At o^ e H^n. uth before marriage, once after marriage, and once 
during widowhood. In my dream I found myself 
seated on one of three irregular blocks of soft, yellowish, 
sandy-looking stone, situated about 6 ft. inside from the 
entrance, and on the right-hand side against the wall of a 
cave. How I came there I was not aware, neither had I any 
definite consciousness of how long I had been there, but it 


did not appear to be a very long time, probably hours and 
not days or weeks. I seemed to be still in my material body, 
and in my usual out-of-door attire, and the stone I sat upon 
was damp, and the largest of the three, and the only one 
having a surface flat enough to make a resting place. The 
cave appeared to be about 25 ft. or 30 ft. wide and 13 ft. 
high at the entrance, but became more low and narrow the 
further you went into the interior. The edges of the entrance 
were very irregular indeed, quite sharp in some places and 
rugged in others, and soft and even, as if worn smooth, right 
on the central top edge of the entrance. 

"I felt an unseen and immaterial weight 
Atmosphere, pressing down my whole conscious being, a horri- 
ble, weird, paralysing deadweight or pressure. 
I seemed to begin to half realise that I was actually in the 
spirit world, and knew it to be a place where only lost and 
unhappy souls existed. The entrance of the cave abutted 
and joined on to and was on a level with what seemed to be 
an endless expanse of water and space, the atmosphere of 
which was composed of a most unearthly and peculiar, half- 
opaque, yellowish mist, or what might be described as like a 
rather dense light yellow fog. It had a feathery appearance, 
as if composed of half down and half thick, damp mist or 
heavy air. The yellow colour seemed to be of such a peculiar 
tint as was never seen on earth, and was created by, or really 
was, in fact, the light, if two-thirds darkness can be called 
light. Well, this light was such that one could not know 
for certain if it was day or night ; it did not seem to be either, 
for one of its characteristics was a sort of changing or shading, 
or intermittent transient alternation of colour from what one 
might call the light of a bad oil lamp to the weak attempt of 
the sun to make itself seen through the dense London fog. 

The Sea " ^ 0r a ^ 0ut ^Y ^ eet m ^ ront °* trie Cave a ^ 

was fine, feathery, shifting sand, and it seemed to 
extend and form a foreshore all along further than I could see 
through the mist. To the left and right of the cave entrance, 
away beyond the fifty feet of sand, was what seemed the great 
endless ocean of water, yet it could not be clearly seen 
to be actual water, but looked through the horrible light 
more like an endless expanse of undulating jelly of a very 
slight flesh colour or pink tint, the contrast with which the 
yellow light was made doubly horrible. There seemed to be 
a cloud of thicker atmosphere lying low between me and the 
ocean, and obscured my vision. The whole place, in and 


outside the cave, was all the same sort of light and atmo- 
sphere, but outside was about ten times as dense. I was 
going to get up and walk along to see what depth backwards 
the cave went, but I was stopped by a terrible pressure as of a 
hand on my head and became conscious, finally conscious, 
that there was no end to nor outlet to the other end of the 
cave, and I was told in the spirit that when once I insisted 
and penetrated further into it I would never be permitted to 
leave the regions of the lost. 

" Now, there was all this time I was in this 

of sighing, region a noise as of the sea — a dreadful, sad, 
undulating, sighing, hollow, subtle, penetrating, 
deep sound, a half far-away sound as you hear in a sea-shell. 
It seemed to come from the direction of that ocean. The 
sounds were modulated from time to time, and at times 
appeared like human voices in agony, mingling with the 
demoniac, scoffing laughter and groans of despair from other 
lost souls. I had been looking for a short time towards the 
interior of the cave, and as I was turning my face again to 
look out on the expanse in front, I saw something moving 
or floating along through the air. It floated close to the 
roof of the cave, and evidently had come from out of the far 
interior of the latter, where I was forbidden to enter. I looked 
up, and followed the object with my eyes. It was a round 
form about as large as a full-sized human head, and composed 
of what looked like a jelly-like substance inside a bladder, like 
such as toy balloons are made of, and of a cloudy, partly 
transparent yellow look or flesh colour, something like the 
ocean from where the voices came. It floated out into the 
great space, and in doing so it brushed against the smooth 
place I described at the top edge of the cave's entrance. I 
then saw that the whole space outside the cave was full of 
similar floating forms. I noticed about half a dozen more 
float out of the cave, and all touched the smooth edge of the 
cave in doing so. I said to myself that it was evidently the 
constant passing out of the forms I describe that had worn 
that part so smooth. 

"I sat looking out at all the strange scenes, 

Lost S Souis. an d wa s conscious of an inward trembling and 
wondering horror, for I saw now that inside each 
of the globular forms there could just be discerned, though 
indistinctly, human features. I saw the eyes, nose, and mouth 
much more distinct and defined than the whole face — still 
the outline was there, and there was a different face inside 


each of them ; and oh, the expression ! The expression in 
the eyes of each I can never, never forget ; indeed, no words 
I can think of would describe in anything like a graphic 
manner the intense and awful depth of agony, of remorse and 
consciousness of hopeless and eternal loss, and silent, 
immutable isolation of the soul, portrayed in those living 
eyes, all of which seemed to look out straight before them, 
and as if denied the power to even shift or move the eyeballs. 
Still, I could see in them not only the actual living light as 
seen in the eyes of those still on earth, but they possessed 
an unearthly light, as if the very spirit-fire was ready to burst 
through, but was not permitted, though on the verge of 
madness — a look of suppressed, horrible, speechless, conscious 
agony. Each mouth was closed tight, and had a strained, 
compressed look, as of a sick person suffering great physical 
pain. The hundreds of forms I could see (but I felt that all 
the unseen space over the ocean was all full of them too) 
kept on mingling and intermingling as they floated up and 
down and around through space ; but I noticed that none 
ever were permitted to touch each other, for each floated 
around all ; there was always a distance of two feet between 
them at least. I noticed, too, that as soon as these forms 
came in sight all the horrible noise as of voices ceased, and 
there remained only subdued, regular sound, as of the going 
out of the tide. There was no hair, ears, or neck discernible 
in these spirit faces, and in all cases it was the full front view 
of the face which was seen inside the balls, but the face was 
outside, and seen through the bladder-like outside surface. 
The tip of the nose being apparently about three and a half 
inches in from the surface, the part inside at the back of the 
features was not transparent enough to see through, but like a 
more dense, jelly-like substance than elsewhere. I felt a 
strange anxiety and doubt as to whether I would ever again 
get back into this world, and how I was convinced that the 
place I was in was really hell. I felt powerless and too 
horrified and disinclined to move or try to see further. After 
a long spell of horror I suddenly felt a sort of peaceful, hazy 
relief feeling steal over me, and I bent my head and saw that 
my own clothing was becoming indistinct, and all conscious- 
ness faded away and ended the vision. Each time I had this 
dream all details were exactly the same. 

How the " I a ^ wa y s had the dream at the same time, 

vision came that was just before getting up in the morning, and 

/ent * it occurred as follows : — I had slept well, as usual, 


and had awakened and was about to get up and dress when I 
felt a sort of half-conscious, dreamy, light feeling steal over 
me as if passing through air, or carried on the wind, then an 
interval of inaction, during which I was powerless to awake, 
although I could recognise and hear sounds and what was 
said or done in or near my room. I felt that I was not all 
there myself ; I had a divided sensation, as if that part of my 
consciousness which had left me had taken all power of 
motion and will along with it in its flight j and as if only 
passive and weak consciousness remained. Eventually I felt 
a great shock, gave a deep sigh, and awoke, my whole selt 
once more, and thereupon I was at once aware of having been 
two people or spirits, or divided, and knew I had been in two 
places and conditions at the same period. I can't describe to 
you how troubled and alarmed I was, for I believed the 
vision was given me as a warning, and that I would really go 
to hell after death. I thought so because I had been so often 
before, in dreams, in places I had no idea or knowledge ot 
from either pictures or books or descriptions, but had really 
gone to them after and recognised them from the dream. 
I was so upset that I went and told my vision to the Rev. 
John Donor Powell, the pastor of my church in Lower Abbey 
Street, Dublin, and asked his advice and prayers. That was 
the first time I had the vision. I have had it twice since, 
with intervals of six years between each. If I ever have it 
again I shall know that my doom is sealed ; but I believe I 
shall be saved from that." 

Mrs. F. was good enough to write out for me a dream of 
heaven, which is quite as original in its way as this sombre 
dream of the mouth of hell. Milton and Dante both made 
more of the Inferno than of the Paradiso. My corres- 
pondent's vision of the celestial regions is, however, much 
more remarkable even than her weird vigil at the mouth of the 
cave between the bottomless pit and the sea of lost souls. 

The Count R. de Maricourt sends me the 
of f MeSiaf following account of a dream which anticipated 
events by three years, which bears some resem- 
blance to Mrs. F.'s dream of New York and Buffalo : — 

" About ten years of my childhood were spent in Italy 
— the most part at Naples, near my father, who was then 
attache to the French Embassy (with the Duke de Montebello, 
ambassador at that time). When sent back to France for the 
last school studies, I felt like an exile and a prisoner in the 
college — always longing most sadly for Italy and dreaming 


ot it, crying the night in my bed. I was recovering from 
a severe illness when I dreamed that I was on sea, facing the 
well-known Neapolitan bay, the smoking Vesuvius, etc., etc. 
Then the landscape faded, and a new shore appeared. The 
outlines of the coasts were as if cut out with scissors into a 
rude scrap of grey paper and glued upon another dark paper, 
figuring stormy skies. I was almost paralysed by an unspeak- 
able feeling of awe, looking at such an anomalously lugubri- 
ous coloration. 

" But, soon relieved, I saw the rising sun illuminating a 
large, perfectly unknown town, white, surrounded with green 
hills. A strong, lively, good- faced, almost naked and sunburnt 
man took my trunk when arrived in the harbour. He was 
dressed with drawers only, and a Phrygian red woollen cap. 

" When landed on shore, through far streets he led me to 
the front door of a palazzo, where waved the French flag. And 
soon here I was greeted by my father, my step-mother, and 
my young brothers. Now, I am quite an old man, and still 
the picture of the gloomy coast and sky remains printed on 
my Drain. 

" Three years later, when I had gained the bachelorship 
and was engaged in the first law studies, my father bade me 
rejoin him at Messina, where he was freshly appointed to the 
French vice-consulate ; he was unwilling to leave me alone at 
Paris in the middle of revolution (1S48). 

"Arriving at Naples, where I was landed by the French Mar- 
seilles steamer, I embarked on a very small old and bad 
Neapolitan ship. We were assailed by a gale in the night. 
A long and dismal journey through the lightning, I perceived 
and acknowledged the shapes of the Calabrian coasts, but not 
so gloomily as in the childish nightmare which so vividly had 
stricken me some years ago. 

" At Messina I recognised perfectly, between the men carry- 
ing on shore the passengers' luggage, my appointed facchino. 
He, and no other, took my trunk on his naked shoulder. 
After some paces he asked me where I was going. At the 
first corner of a street I felt so perfectly sure I could not miss 
my way that I told him ' Lasciami camminare inna?izi ine ti 
-bortcro to dove voglio andare! And soon we arrived near the 
front door, the large archway entrance of the palazzo, with the 
French flag, and so on." 

A correspondent in Chester sends me the follow- 
A i^a Dream." in g detailed story of what appears to be a trust- 
worthy account of a murder actually witnessed in 


a dream in all its details by the brother of the murdered man. 
The names of persons and places are disguised. The dates, 
however, are correct. The murder took place in Cornwall. 
The report of the execution and of the trial can be traced in 
the local newspapers. The case is now being investigated by 
the Psychical Research Society. Sir A. Cockburn prosecuted 
on behalf of the Crown. My informant's relatives were the 
intimate friends of the murdered man. 

On one of the slate tombstones in the churchyard of the 
Cornish village of St. Eglos is the following inscription : — 

"Sacred to the Memory of 
Who was murdered on February Sf/i, 1840." 

St. Eglos is situated about ten miles from the Atlantic, and 
not quite so far from the old market town of Trebodwina. 

Hart and George Northey were brothers, and from child- 
hood their lives been marked by the strongest brotherly 

Hart and George Northey had never been separated from 

their birth, until George became a sailor, Hart meantime 

joining his father in business. 

The vision ^ n ^ e ** tn °^ February, 1840, while George 

Northey's ship was lying in port at St. Helena, he 

had the following strange dream : — 

" Last night I dreamt my brother was at Trebodwina 
Market, and that I was with him, quite close by his side, 
during the whole of the market transactions. 

(l Although I could see and hear everything which passed 
around me, I felt sure that it was not my bodily presence 
which thus accompanied him, but my shadow, or rather my 
spiritual presence, for he seemed quite unconscious that I was 
near him. 

" I felt that my being thus present in this strange way 
betokened some hideous hidden danger which he was destined 
to meet, and which I knew my presence could not avert, for I 
could not speak to warn him of his peril. 

" Conscious as I was of impending danger, I hoped he 
would return early to his home with some of his neighbours. 

"As the evening passed and his friends one by one left the 
market-town, my apprehension increased ; I became more and 
more assured that the threatened blow could not be averted. 
Hart remained hour after hour receiving amounts due to him 
from various accounts, so that it was fully forty minutes after 


the last of his townsfolk had left Trebodwina before he started 
on his homeward journey. 

11 It was a bright starlight night, but as there was no moon, 
objects on the roadside were only dimly discernible. 

" My brother was on horseback, and, unconscious of danger, 
he rode smartly up the narrow old street of Trebodwina, past 
the asylum on the brow of the hill, then down between high 
hedges into the w r ell-wooded vale of Trenmere ; still on up 
the hillside of St. Didimus, until he arrived at the Half-Way 
Inn, three miles from his starting place. 

"Up to this time (for I seemed to accompany him on 
his ride) I had seen nothing to warrant my anxiety, but yet I 
was more certain than ever that impending doom was awaiting 

" His ride, so far, had been through a comparatively open 
country. He now entered on the loneliest and darkest part ot 
the road. The stars, which had previously lighted his way, 
became obscured by overhanging trees. He now gradually 
descended into a very deep valley, with large woods on the 
hills which were parallel to the road on either side. The 
effect of these thickly-wooded hills was to render the darkness 
complete. My terror gradually increased as Hart approached 
the hamlet of Polkerrow, until I was in a perfect frenzy, fran- 
tically desirous, yet unable, to warn my brother in some way 
and prevent him going further. 

" He had slackened speed to rest his horse during the latter 
part of his ride, and had now reached a spot about half a mile 
from Polkerrow. 

" At this point a large excavation had been made by the 
roadside, in one corner of which there is a gateway which 
leads to a lonely orchard, through which runs a dark stream. 
This excavation caused the shadow of the hedge to cease, and 
there was at this point a faint light upon the road. 

" Looking in its direction, I suddenly became aware of 
two dark shadows thrown across the road from the recess. 
I felt my brother's hour had come, and I was powerless to 
aid him ! 

"Two men appeared, whom I instantly recognised as 
notorious poachers, who lived in a lonely wood near St. Eglos. 

" Even now my brother seemed to have no fear, and on 
being saluted by them stopped his horse. 

" The men wished him ' Good-night, maister,' civilly enough. 
He replied, and entered into conversation with them about 
some work he had promised them. After a few minutes they 


asked him for some money. It was not the first time he had 
given them aid, and, without needing persuasion to a generous 
deed, he handed them some silver. They were evidently dis- 
satisfied, and asked for more, their demeanour meanwhile 
altering from begging to demanding. Their further request he 
refused, and they urged and threatened him in vain. The 
elder of the two brothers, who was standing near the horse's 
head, and said, ' Mr. Northey, we know you have just come 
from Trebodwina market with plenty of money in your 
pockets ; we are desperate men, and you bean't going to leave 
this place until we've got that money, so hand over.' My 
brother made no reply, except to slash at him with the whip 
and spur the horse at him. 

"The younger of the ruffians instantly drew a pistol and 
fired. Hart dropped lifeless from the saddle, and one of the 
villains held him by the throat with a grip of iron for some 
minutes, as though to make assurance doubly sure, and crush 
out any particle of life my poor brother might have left. 

" The murderers secured the horse to a tree in the orchard, 
and, having rifled the corpse, they dragged it up the stream, 
concealing it under the overhanging banks of the water-course. 
They then carefully covered over all marks of blood on the 
road, and hid the pistol in the thatch of a disused hut close 
to the roadside ; then, setting the horse free to gallop home 
alone, they decamped across the country to their own cottage. 

" The agony I had endured through this terrible scene, 
utterly unable as I was to save him I loved most on earth, 
became now quite insupportable. I tried to pursue the mur- 
derers, I shouted their names, I called on God to avenge my 
brother, and I awoke ! " 

" An awful dream, indeed ! " said one of the listeners, 
" but surely you do not believe such a fate has befallen your 
brother ? " 

"I am absolutely certain Hart is dead ; that he was mur- 
dered on the Trebodwina Road last night, just in the exact 
way I saw in my dream," replied George Northey. 

The vessel left St. Helena next day, and reached Plymouth 
in due course. George Northey had, during the whole of the 
voyage home, never altered in his conviction that Hart had 
been killed as he had dreamt, and that retribution was by his 
means to fall on the murderers. 

The following incident actually took place on 

What actually.! „ • «. e *i_ i 

happened, the night of the murder: — 

"It was market day at Trebodwina, and the old 
country town was bustle itself. 


" Others among the crowd were Tom Marter, Henry Tres- 
yons, and John Penpoll, all near neighbours of his, and these 
four gentlemen arranged to ride home together, if possible. 

" This arrangement, however, could not be followed j each 
was obliged to leave the town at a different time; Hart 
Northey some while after the others. 

"At midnight Mrs. Hart Northey was startled by the sound 
of a horse's gallop, which ceased outside her house. She had 
been waiting up for her husband, and now, hearing the horse 
go to the stable, she went to the rear of the house. ' Hart, 
dear, what news ? ' asked she. The only reply her question 
received was the champing of the horse's bit, as he stood at 
the door of the stable, patiently awaiting admittance. For an 
instant Mrs. Northey stood amazed, but gradually a dreadful 
fear came over her. There w r as the horse, riderless ; and, 
looking closer, she saw the mane and saddle stained with a few 
drops of blood. Hart must have met with foul play upon the 
road, and when this conclusion with its attendant horror had 
fixed itself on her mind, her nerves failed her, and with a 
startling cry she fainted. Her scream roused the servants, 
and soon the sad news spread round the neighbourhood. 
Without waiting for daybreak the good folk of St. Eglos set 
out on the Trebodwina Road to find Hart Northey, dead or 
alive. Their search was futile; there was no trace to guide 
them towards the object of their quest, nor were signs of a 
struggle anywhere visible. 

11 The next day a ploughboy, as he was walking along the 
Trebodwina Road, determined to pick some of the watercress 
which grew in a brook running through an orchard close to 
the road. 

" As he bent over the overhanging bank to look for the 
cress, he saw the body of a dead man lying cold and ghastly 
in the stream. Wild with fright, the lad rushed off and told 
his terrible discovery to others. The body was almost imme- 
diately identified as that of Hart Northey. 

" The police of the neighbourhood entered at once into an 
investigation of the murder. The horror and indignation at 
the crime were widespread. The deceased was so well known 
and so popular that every one concurred in thinking that 
special efforts should be made to detect his murderer. 

" A sum of ^"3,500 had meanwhile been presented to the 
widow as an expression of sympathy. 

"At last suspicion fell on the brothers Hightwood, whose 
cottage was searched and blood-stained garments were dis- 


covered concealed in the roof, but no trace of the pistol was 
to be found which the younger brother admitted having had. 
He stated he lost it almost immediately after its purchase. 
The elder Hightwood denied all knowledge of the pistol. 

" Both brothers were arrested and brought before the 

" The evidence against them was certainly not strong, but 
their manner seemed that of guilty men. They were ordered 
to take their trial at the forthcoming assizes at Trebodwina. 
They each confessed in the hope of saving their lives, and 
both were sentenced to be hanged. 

" There was, however, some doubt about the pistol. Before 
the execution George Northey arrived from St. Helena, and 
declared that the pistol was in the thatch of the old cottage 
close by the place where they murdered Hart Northey, and 
where they hid it. 

" ' How do you know?' he was asked. 

" George Northey replied : ' I saw the foul deed committed 
in a dream I had the night of the murder, when at St. 

" A pistol was found, as George Northey had predicted, in 
the thatch of the ruined cottage." 



THE following collection presents a list of names — more or 
less well known— with which ghost stories of some kind 
are associated. The authority for these stories, though in 
many cases good, is so varied in quality that they are not 
offered as evidential of anything except the wide diversity ot 
the circles in which such things find acceptance. 


Henry IV.) of France, told d'Aubigne' (see'd'Aubigne, His- 
toire Universelle) that in presence of himself, the Archbishop 
of Lyons, and three ladies of the Court, the Queen (Margaret 
of Valois) saw the apparition of a certain cardinal afterwards 
found to have died at the moment. Also he (Henry IV.) was 
warned of his approaching end, not long before he was mur- 
dered by Ravaillac, by meeting an apparition in a thicket in 
Fontainebleau. ("Sully's Memoirs."). 

Abel the Fratricide, King of Denmark, was buried in un- 
consecrated ground, and still haunts the wood of Poole, near 
the city of Sleswig. 

Valdemar IV. haunts Gurre Wood, near Elsinore. 

Charles XI, of Sweden, accompanied by his chamberlain 
and state physician, witnessed the trial of the assassin of Gusta- 
vus III., which occurred nearly a century later. 

James IV, of Scotland, after vespers in the chapel at Lin- 
lithgow, w T as warned by an apparition against his intended 
expedition into England. He, however, proceeded, and was 
warned again at Jedburgh, but, persisting, fell at Flodden 

Charles I, oj England, when resting at Daventree on 
the eve of the battle of Naseby, was twice visited by the appa- 
rition of Strafford, warning him not to meet the Parliamentary 
army, then quartered at Northampton. Being persuaded by 
Prince Rupert to disregard the warning, the King set off to 


march northward, but was surprised on the route, and a disas- 
trous defeat followed. 

Orleans, Duke of, brother of Louis XIV., called his eldest 
son (afterwards Regent) by his second title, Due de Chartres, 
in preference to the more usual one of Due de Valois. This 
change is said to have been in consequence of a communica- 
tion made before his birth by the apparition of his father's first 
wife, Henrietta of England, reported to have been poisoned. 

Historical Women. 

Elizabeth, Queen, is said to have been warned 01 her death 
by the apparition of her own double. (So, too, Sir Robert 
Napier and Lady Diana Rich.) 

Catherine de Medicis saw in a vision the battle of Jarnac, 
and cried out, " Do you not see the Prince of Conde dead in 
the hedge ? " This and many similar stories are told by Mar- 
garet of Valois in her Memoirs. 

Philippa, wife of the Duke of Lorraine, when a girl in a con- 
vent, saw in vision the battle of Pavia, then in progress, and 
the captivity of the king her cousin, and called on the nuns 
about her to pray. 

Joan of Arc was visited and directed by various Saints, in- 
cluding the Archangel Michael, S. Catherine, S. Margaret, 

Lord Chancellors. 

Erskine, Lord, himself relates (Lady Morgan's " Book of the 
Boudoir," 1829, vol. i. 123) that the spectre of his father's butler, 
whom he did not know to be dead, appeared to him in broad 
daylight, "to meet your honour," so it explained, "and to 
solicit your interference with my lord to recover a sum due to 
me which the steward at the last settlement did not pay," which 
proved to be the fact. 

Brougham, Lord (see page 59). 

Cabinet Ministers. 

Buckingham, Duke of was exhorted to amendment and 
warned of approaching assassination by apparition of his 
father, Sir George Villiers, who was seen by Mr. Towers, 
surveyor of works at Windsor. All occurred as foretold. 

Perceval Spenser (see page 47). 

Castlereagh, Lord (who succeeded the above as Foreign 
Secretary), when a young man, quartered with his regiment in 
Ireland, saw the apparition of "The Radiant Boy," said to be 


an omen of good. Sir Walter Scott speaks of him as one of 
two persons " of sense and credibility, who both attested 
supernatural appearances on their own evidence." 

Peel, Sir Robert, and his brother, both saw Lord Byron in 
London in 1S10, while he was, in fact, lying dangerously ill at 
Patras. During the same fever, he also appeared to others, 
and was even seen to write down his name among the inquirers 
after the King's health. 


Trajan, Emperor, was extricated from Antioch during an 
earthquake by a spectre which drove him out of a window. 
(Dio Cassius, lib. lxviii.) 

Caracalla, Emperor, was visited by the ghost of his father 

Julian the Apostate, Emperor (1), when hesitating to accept 
the Empire, saw a female figure, " The Genius of the Empire/' 
who said she would remain with him, but not for long. (2) 
Shortly before his death, he saw his genius leave him with a 
dejected air. (3) He saw a phantom prognosticating the 
death of the Emperor Constans. (See S. Basil.) 

Theodosius, Emperor, when on the eve of a battle, was re- 
assured of the issue by the apparition of two men ; also seen 
independently by one of his soldiers. 


Curtius Rufus (pro-consul of Africa) is reported by Pliny 
to have been visited, while still young and unknown, by a 
gigantic female — the Genius of Africa — who foretold his career. 
(Pliny, b. vii. letter 26.) 

Julius Ccesar was marshalled across the Rubicon by a spec- 
tre, which seized a trumpet from one of the soldiers and 
sounded an alarm. 

Xerxes, after giving up the idea of carrying war into Greece, 
was persuaded to the expedition by the apparition of a young 
man, who also visited Artabanus, uncle to the king, when, upon 
Xerxes' request, Artabanus assumed his robe and occupied his 
place. (Herodotus, vii.) 

Brutus was visited by a spectre, supposed to be that of 
Julius Cassar, who announced that they would meet again at 
Philippi, where he was defeated in battle, and put an end to 
his own life. 

Drusus i when seeking to cross the Elbe, was deterred by a 


female spectre, who told him to turn back and meet his ap- 
proaching end. He died before reaching the Rhine. 

Pausanins, General of the Lacedaemonians, inadvertently 
caused the death of a young lady of good family, who haunted 
him day and night, urging him to give himself up to justice. 
(Plutarch in Simone.) 

Dio, General of Syracuse, saw a female apparition sweeping 
furiously in his house, to denote that his family would shortly 
be swept out of Syracuse, which, through various accidents, 
was shortly the case. 

Napoleon, at S. Helena, saw and conversed with the appa- 
rition of Josephine, who warned him of his approaching death. 
The story is narrated by Count Montholon, to whom he 
told it. 

Blucher, on the very day of his decease, related to the King 
of Prussia that he had been warned by the apparition of his 
entire family, of his approaching end. 

Fox, General, went to Flanders with the Duke of York 
shortly before the birth of his son. Two years later he had a 
vision of the child — dead — and correctly described its appear- 
ance and surroundings, though the death occurred in a house 
unknown to him. 

Garfield, General, when a child of six or seven, saw and 
conversed with his father, lately deceased. He also had a 
premonition, which proved correct, as to the date of his death 
— the anniversary of the battle of Wickmauga, in which he 
took a brave part. 

Lincoln, President, had a certain premonitory dream which 
occurred three times in relation to important battles, and the 
fourth on the eve of his assassination. 

Coligni, Admiral, was three times warned to quit Paris be- 
fore the feast of St. Bartholomew, but disregarded the premo- 
nition and perished in the massacre (1572). 

Men of Letters. 

Petrarch saw the apparition of the bishop of his diocese at 
the moment of death. 

Epimenides, a poet contemporary with Solon, is reported by 
Plutarch to have quitted his body at will and to have conversed 
with spirits. 

Dante, Jacopo, son of the poet, was visited in a dream by 
his father, who conversed with him and told him where to find 
the missing thirteen cantos of the Commedia. 


Tasso saw and conversed with beings invisible to those about 

Goethe saw his own double riding by his side under condi- 
tions which really occurred years later. His father, mother, 
and grandmother were all ghost-seers. 

Donne, Dr., when in Paris, saw the apparition of his wife 
in London carrying a dead child at the very hour a dead in- 
fant was in fact born. 

Byron, Zont, is said to have seen the Black Friar of New- 
stead on the eve of his ill-fated marriage. Also, with others, 
he saw the apparition of Shelley walk into a wood at Lerici, 
though they knew him at the time to be several miles away. 

Shelley, while in a state of trance, saw a figure wrapped in a 
cloak which beckoned to him and asked, "Siete soddisfatto?" 
— (Are you satisfied?) 

Bcnvenuto Cellini, when in captivity at Rome by order of 
the Pope, was dissuaded from suicide by the apparition of a 
young man who frequently visited and encouraged him. 

Mozart was visited by a mysterious person who ordered 
him to compose a requiem, and came frequently to inquire 
after its progress, but disappeared on its completion, which oc- 
curred just in time for its performance at Mozart's own funeral. 

Ben Jonson, when staying at Sir Robert Cotton's house, 
was visited by the apparition of his eldest son with a mark of 
a bloody cross upon his forehead at the moment of his death 
by the plague. He himself told the story to Drummond of 

Thackeray, IV. M., writes, " It is all very well for you who 
have probably never seen spirit manifestations to talk as you 
do, but had you seen what I have witnessed you would hold a 
different opinion." 

Mrs. Brownings spirit appeared to her sister with warning 
of death. Robert Browning writes, Tuesday, July 21, 1863, 
"Arabel (Miss Barrett) told me yesterday that she had been 
much agitated by a dream which happened the night before — 
Sunday, July 19. She saw her, and asked, 'When shall I be 
with you ?' The reply was, ' Dearest, in five years '; whereupon 
Arabel awoke. She knew in her dream that it was not to the 
living she spoke." In five years, within a month of their com- 
pletion, Miss Barrett died, and Browning writes, " I had for- 
gotten the date of the dream, and supposed it was only three 
years, and that two had still to run." 

Hall, Bishop, and his brother, when at Cambridge, each had 
a vision of their mother looking sadly at him, and saying she 


would not be able to keep her promise of visiting them. She 
died at the time. 

Dr. Guthrie was directed, by repeated pullings at his coat, 
to go in a certain direction, contrary to previous intention, and 
was thus the means of saving the life of a parishioner. 

Miller, Hugh, tells, in his " Schools and Schoolmasters," of 
the apparition of a bloody hand, seen by himself and the ser- 
vant but not by others present. Accepted as a warning of the 
death of his father. 

Porter, Anna Maria, when living at Esher, was visited one 
afternoon by an old gentleman — a neighbour, who frequently 
came in to tea. On this occasion he left the room without 
speaking, and fearing that something had happened she sent to 
inquire, and found that he had died at the moment of his ap- 

Edgwo7'th, Maria, was waiting with her family for an ex- 
pected guest, when the vacant chair was suddenly occupied by 
the apparition of a sailor cousin, who stated that his ship had 
been wrecked and he alone saved. The event proved the 
contrary — he alone was drowned. 

Marryat, Captain — the story is told by his daughter — while 
staying at a country house in the north of England saw the 
family ghost — an ancestress of the time of Queen Elizabeth 
who had poisoned her husband. He tried to shoot her, but 
the ball passed harmlessly into the door behind, and the lady 
faded away — always smiling. 

De Stael, Madame, was haunted by the spirit of her father, 
who counselled and helped her in all times of need. 

L. E. Z.'s ghost was seen by Dr. Madden in the room in 
which she died at Cape Coast Castle. 

De Morgan, Professor, writes : " I am perfectly convinced 
that I have both seen and heard, in a manner that should 
make unbelief impossible, things called spiritual which cannot 
be taken by a rational being to be capable of explanation by 
imposture, coincidence, or mistake." 

Poole, Samuel, in the year 1740, while visiting at his father's 
house in Truro, was kept awake by sounds of sweet music. 
His uncle was about the same time murdered by assassins. 

Men of Science. 

Davy, Sir HumpJirey, when a young man, suffering from 
yellow fever on the Gold Coast, was comforted by visions of 
his guardian angel, who, years after, appeared to him again — 
incarnate — in the person of his nurse during his last illness. 


Harvey, William, the discoverer of the circulation of the 
blood, used to relate that his life was saved by a dream. When 
a young man he was proceeding to Padua, when he was de- 
tained — with no reason alleged — by the governor at Dover. 
The ship was wrecked, and all on board lost, and it was then 
explained that the governor had received orders — in a dream 
— to prevent a person, to whose description Harvey answered, 
from going on board that night. 

Farquhar, Sir Walter, physician (made a baronet in 1796), 
visited a patient at Pomeroy Castle. While waiting alone a 
lady appeared to him, exhibiting agony and remorse (who 
proved to be the family ghost) prognosticating the death of the 
patient, which followed. 

Clark, Sir James, Wije of, while living in their house in 
Brook Street, saw the apparition ot her son, Dr. J. Clark, 
then in India, carrying a dead baby wrapped in an Indian 
shawl. Shortly afterwards he did, in fact, send home the body 
of a child for interment, which had died at the hour noted ; 
to fill up the coffin it was wrapped up in an Indian scarf. 

Herbert of Clierbiny, Lord, one of the first to systematise 
deism, when in doubt whether he should publish his " De 
Veritate," as advised by Grotius, prayed for a sign, and heard 
sounds "like nothing on earth, which did so comfort and 
cheer me, that I took my petition as granted." 

Bacon, Francis, was warned in a dream of his father's ap- 
proaching end, which occurred in a few days. 


Liither, Martin, was visited by apparitions, — one, according 
to Melancthon, who announced his coming by knocking at the 

Melancthon says that the apparition ot a venerable person 
came to him in his study and told him to warn his friend Gry- 
naeus to escape at once from the danger of the Inquisition, a 
warning which saved his life. 

Z&ring/ivras visited by an apparition "with a perversion of a 
text of Scripture." 

Oberlin, Pastor, was visited almost daily by his deceased 
wife, who conversed with him, and was visible not only to him- 
self, but to all about him. 

Fox, George, while walking on Pendle Hill, Yorkshire, saw 
his future converts coming towards him " along a river-side, 
to serve the Lord." 

Newman, Cardinal, relates in a letter, January 3rd, 1833, 


that when in quarantine in Malta he and his companions heard 
footsteps not to be accounted for by human agency. 

Wilberforce, Bishop, experienced remarkable premonitions, 
and phenomena even more startling are attributed to him. 

Saints. — The stories of visions, apparitions, etc., which are 
told in connection with the saints are far too numerous to 
quote. The following, however, may be referred to as of 
special interest : — 

i. Phantasms of the Living. — St. Ignatius Loyola, Gennadius 
(the friend of St. Augustine), St. Augustine himself, twice over 
(he tells the story himself, Serm. 233), St. Benedict and St. 
Meletius, all appeared during life in places distant from their 
actual bodily whereabouts. 

2. Phantasms of the Dead. — St. Anselm saw the slain body 
of William Rums, St. Basil that of Julian the Apostate, St. 
Benedict the ascent to heaven of the soul of St. Germanus, 
bishop of Capua — all at the moment of death. St. Augustine 
and St. Edmund, Archbishops of Canterbury, are said to have 
conversed with spirits. St. Ambrose and St. Martin of Tours 
received information concerning relics from the original owners 
of the remains. 

3. Premonitions. — St. Cyprian and St. Columba each fore- 
told the date and manner of his own death as revealed in 


Ilarcowrt, Countess, when Lady Nuneham, mentioned one 
morning having had an agitating dream, but was met with 
ridicule. Later in the day Lord Harcourt — her husband's 
father — was missing. She exclaimed, " Look in the well," and 
fainted away. Pie was found there with a dog, which he had 
been trying to save. 

Aksakoff, A/me., wife of Chancellor Aksakoff, on the night 
of May 1 2th, 1855, saw the apparition of her brother, who 
died at the time. The story is one very elaborate as to detail. 

Rich) Lady Diana, was warned of her death by a vision ot 
her own double in the avenue of Holland House. 

Breadalbane, May, Lady, her sister (both daughters of Lord 
Holland), was also warned in vision of her death. 

The Daughter of Sir Charles Z<?t\— This story, related by 
the Bishop of Gloucester, 1662, is very well known. On the 
eve of her intended marriage with Sir VV. Perkins, she was 
visited by her mother's spirit, announcing her approaching 
death at twelve o'clock next day. She occupied the interven- 


ing time with suitable preparations, and died calmly at the 
hour foretold. 

Beresford, Lady, wife of Sir Tristam, before her marriage in 
1687, made a secret engagement with Lord Tyrone, that which- 
ever should die first would appear to the other. He fulfilled 
his promise on October 15th, 1693, and warned her of her death 
on her forty-eighth birthday. All was kept secret, but after 
the fated day had passed, she married a second time, and ap- 
peared to enter on a new lease of life. Two years later, when 
celebrating her birthday, she accidentally discovered that she 
was two years younger than had been supposed, and expired 
before night. The story is one of the best known and most 
interesting in ghost-lore. 

Fanshaw, Lady, when visiting in Ireland, heard the banshee 
of the family with whom she was visiting, one of whom did in 
fact die during the night. She also relates (in her " Memoirs," 
p. 28) that her mother once lay as dead for two days and a 
night. On her return to life she informed those about her 
that she had asked of two apparitions, dressed in long, white 
garments, for leave, like Hezekiah, to live for fifteen years, to 
see her daughter grow up, and that it was granted. She died 
in fifteen years from that time. 

Maidstone, Lady, saw a fly of fire as premonitory of the 
deaths, first, of her husband, who died in a sea-fight with the 
Dutch, May 28th, 1672, and second, of her mother-in-law, 
Lady Winchilsea. 

Chedworth, Lord, was visited by a friend and fellow-sceptic, 
saying he had died that night and had realised the existence 
of another world. While relating the vision the news arrived 
of his friend's death. 

Rambouillet, Marquis of, had just the same experience. A 
fellow-unbeliever, his cousin, the Marquis de Pre'cy, visited 
him in Paris, saying that he had been killed in battle in 
Flanders, and predicting his cousin's death in action, which 
shortly occurred in the battle of the Faubourg St. Antoine. 
(Quoted by Calmet from "Causes Celebres," xi. 370.) 

Lytikton, Lord (third), died November 27th, 1799, was 
warned of his death three days earlier, and exhorted to re- 
pentance. The story, very widely quoted, first appears in the 
Gentleman's Magazine, vol. lxxxv. 597. He also himself ap- 
peared to Mr. Andrews, at Dartford Mills, who was expecting 
a visit from him at the time. 

Middleton, Lord, was taken prisoner by the Roundheads 
after the battle of Worcester. While in prison he was com- 


forted by the apparition of the laird Bocconi, whom he had 
known while trying to make a party for the king in Scotland, 
and who assured him of his escape in two days, which oc- 

Balcarres, Lord, when confined in Edinburgh Castle on sus- 
picion of Jacobitism, was visited by the apparition of Viscount 
Dundee — shot at that moment at Killiecrankie. 

Holland^ Lord (the first), who was taken prisoner at the 
battle of St. Neot's in 1624, is said still to haunt Holland 
House, dressed in the cap and clothes in which he was exe- 

Montgomery, Count oj, was warned by an apparition to flee 
from Paris, and thus escaped the Massacre of St. Bartholomew. 
(See Coligni.) 

Shelburne, Lord, eldest son ot the Marquis of Lansdowne, is 
said, in Mrs. Shimmelpenninck's Memoirs, to have had, when 
five years old, a premonitory vision of his own funeral, with 
full details as to stoppages, etc. Dr. Priestley was sent for, 
and treated the child for slight fever. When about to visit 
his patient (whom he expected to find recovered) a few days 
later, he met the child running bareheaded in the snow. When 
he approached to rebuke him the figure disappeared, and he 
found that the boy had died at the moment. The funeral was 
arranged by the father, then at a distance, exactly in accord- 
ance with the premonition. 

Eglinton, Lord, was three times warned of his death by the 
apparition of the family ghost, the Bodach Glas— the dark-grey 
man. The last appearance was when he was playing golf on 
the links at St. Andrews, October 4th, 1S61. He died before 

Cornwall, The Duke of, in 1100, saw the spectre of William 
Rufus pierced by an arrow and dragged by the devil in the 
form of a buck on the same day that he was killed. (Story 
told in the "Chronicle of Matthew Paris.") 

Chesterfield, Ea?i of (second), in 1652, saw, on waking, a 
spectre with long white robes and black face. Accepting it as 
intimation of some illness of his wife, then visiting her father 
at Networth, he set off early to inquire, and met a servant with 
a letter from Lady Chesterfield, describing the same appari- 

Moliun, Lord, killed in a duel in Chelsea Fields, appeared 
at the moment of his death, in 1642, to a lady in James's 
Street, Covent Garden, and also to the sister (and her maid) of 
Glanvil (author of "Sadducismus Triumphatus "). 


Smjfte, Edmund Lenthal, keeper ot the Crown jewels from 
1814, himself relates (in " Notes and Queries/' i860, p. 192) the 
appearance, in Anne Boleyn's chamber in the Tower, of "a 
cylindrical figure like a glass tube, hovering between the table 
and the ceiling " visible to himself and his wife, but not to 
others present. 





; I *HERE is a certain uncanny fascination about haunted 
■■> houses, but it is one of which it may emphatically be said 
that distance lends enchantment to the view. There is some- 
thing much more thrilling in looking at a haunted house from 
the outside and reading of it at a distance of many miles, than 
spending a sleepless night within its walls. It has never been 
my good fortune to sleep in a haunted house, but on one 
occasion I went to sleep in the ruins of a haunted castle, and 
was awakened with a shuddering horror that I shall never for- 
get as long as I live. 

Haunted It was in Hermitage Castle, Hermitage, that 
Hermitage. g rmi id border stronghold which stood in Liddes- 
dale, not many miles from Riccarton, that most desolate of rail- 
way junctions. I visited it when I was just out of my teens, 
with a mind saturated with legendary lore of the Scotch border. 
I made a pilgrimage to Brankesome Hall, taking Hermitage 
on my way. I write this, not to maintain the objectivity of 
any ghostly haunting of Hermitage Castle, but to show that 
although it may all have been the merest delusion of a sub- 
jective character, I have at least gone through an experience 
which enables me to understand what it feels like to be in a 
haunted house. 

Hermitage Castle, one of the most famous of the Border 
keeps in the days of its splendour, retains to this day a pre- 
eminence among the castles of the Scotch border : — ■ 

11 Haunted Hermitage, 
Where long by spells mysterious bound, 
They pace their round with lifeless smile, 
And shake with restless foot the guilty pile, 
Till sink the mouldering to-.vers beneath the burdened ground.'' 


Lord Soulis, the evil hero of Hermitage, made a compact 
with the devil, who appeared to him, so runs the legend, in the 
shape of a spirit wearing a red cap, which gained its hue from 
the blood of human victims in which it was steeped. Lord 
Soulis sold himself to the demon, and in return he could 
summon his familiar whenever he chose to rap thrice on an 
iron chest, on condition that he never looked in the direction 
of the spirit. Once, however, he forgot or ignored this con- 
dition, and his doom was sealed. But even then the foul 
fiend kept the letter of his compact. Lord Soulis was pro- 
tected by an unholy charm against any injury from rope or 
steel ; hence cords could not bind him and steel would not slay 
him. When, at last, he was delivered over to his enemies, it 
was found necessary to adopt the ingenious and effective 
expedient of rolling him up in a sheet of lead and boiling him 
to death. 

" On a circle of stones they placed the pot, 

On a circle of stones but barely nine ; 
They heated it red and fiery hot, 

And the burnished brass did glimmer and shine. 
They rolled him up in a sheet of lead — 

A sheet of lead for a funeral pall ; 
They plunged him into the cauldron red, 

And melted him body, lead, bones, and all." 

That was the end of Lord Soulis's body, but his spirit still 
lingers superfluous on the scene. Once every seven years he 
keeps tryst with Red Cap on the scene of his former devil- 
ries : 

" And still when seven years are o'er, 

Is heard the jarring sound, 
When hollow opes the charmed door 
Of chamber underground." 

When I visited Hermitage Castle I was all alone, with my 
memory teeming with associations of the past. I unlocked the 
door with the key, which I brought with me from the keeper's 
cottage, at a little distance down the valley. As it creaked on 
its hinges and I felt the chill air of the ruin, I was almost afraid 
to enter. Mustering my courage, however, I went in and 
explored the castle, then lying down on the mossy bank 1 gave 
myself up to the glamour of the past. I must have been there 
an hour or more when suddenly, while the blood seemed to 
freeze down my back, I was startled by a loud prolonged screech, 
over my head, followed by a noise which I could only compare 
to the trampling of a multitude of iron-shod feet through the 
stone-paved doorway. This was alarming enough, but it was 


nothing to the horror which filled me when I heard the heavy 
gate swing on its hinges with a clang which for the moment 
seemed like the closing of a vault in which I was entombed 
alive. I could almost hear the beating of my heart. The 
rusty hinges, the creaking of the door, the melancholy and un- 
earthly nature of the noise, and the clanging of the gate, made 
me shudder and shiver as I lay motionless, not daring to move, 
and so utterly crushed by the terror that had fallen upon me 
that I felt as if I were on the very verge of death. If the evil 
one had appeared at that moment and carried me off I should 
have but regarded it as the natural corollary to what I had 
already heard. Fortunately no sulphureous visitant darkened 
the blue sky that stretched overhead with his unwelcome 
presence, and after a few minutes, when I had recovered from 
my fright, I ventured into the echoing doorway to see whether 
or not I was really a prisoner. The door was shut, and I can 
remember to this day the tremour which I experienced when 
I laid my hand upon the door and tried whether or not it was 
locked. It yielded to my hand, and I have seldom felt a 
sensation of more profound relief than when I stepped across 
the threshold and felt that I was free once more. For a 
moment it was as if I had been delivered from the grave itself 
which had already closed over my head. Of course, looking 
back upon this after a number of years, it is easy to say that 
the whole thing was purely subjective. An overwrought fancy, 
a gust of wind whistling through the crannies and banging the 
door close were quite sufficient to account for my fright, 
especially as it is not at all improbable that I had gone to sleep 
in the midst of the haunted ruins. 

So I reasoned at the moment, and came back and stayed 
another hour in the castle, if only to convince myself that I 
was not afraid. But neither before nor after that alarm did any 
gust of wind howl round the battlements with anything ap- 
proaching to the clamour which gave me such a fright. One 
thing amuses me in looking back at a letter which I wrote at 
the time, describing my alarm. I say, " Superstition, sneer 
you? It may be. I rejoiced that I was capable of super- 
stition ; I thought it was dried out of me by high pressure 
civilisation." I am afraid that some of my critics will be 
inclined to remark that my capacities in that direction stand 
in need of a great deal of drying up. 

An Irish ^ tne f° re g° m S narrative may be regarded as 

Castie and its little better than a second cousin to an authentic 

Ghosts. gh ostj thi s cannot be said of the story ot another 


haunted castle which I will proceed to relate. In this case the 
castle is undoubtedly haunted, and the lady of the castle, who is 
a great friend of mine, is my authority for the narrative. Mrs. 
D is the only friend in a tolerably large circle of acquaint- 
ances who has not only seen a ghost, but has been touched by 
one. She is a young English lady of considerable force of 
character and originality. She rides to the hounds, is a good 
shot, and is the last person in the world whom you would sus- 
pect of morbid fears on the subject of the supernatural. The 
best proof that she is not timid is shown by the fact that, not- 
withstanding her visible and tangible experience of the spectre, 
she continues to live in the castle which it frequents, and after 
she got over the first shock of its acquaintance contrived to 

find existence quite supportable under the same roof. L ■ 

Castle, in Ireland, is one of the most famous haunted castles 
in the three kingdoms. As far back as the sixteenth century 
it was famous for its ghosts, and it remains famous to this day. 
It has its haunted chambers, its murder hole, its dungeons, 
and a family of spectral inhabitants which for eleven months 
in the year go about the castle in a harmless and inoffensive 
manner. In the month of November they wax obstreperous, 
and for the last ten years at least no member of the family has 
been able to face the November ghosts. Tradition has it that 
in the month of November some ancient Irish notable, I 

believe called O'Callaghan, murdered his wife in L Castle, 

and ever since that date that ill-omened month has been set 
apart for a kind of demoniac high jinks, which render the place 
almost uninhabitable. In the other eleven months of the year 
its normal complement of ghosts is two, one a little old man 
in green, the other the conventional ghost in whitish grey. It 
was the latter ghost, Mrs. D informs me, whose acquaint- 
ance she made within the last year or two. There is one very 
curious phenomenon which distinguishes this haunted castle 
from all others, namely, the regularity of the visits of the ap- 
parition of its ghostly inmate. Spiritualists maintain that there 
is nothing so punctual as your ghost ; he is never late for an 
appointment, and you may be always certain that the spectre 
will be on time. Every night, year in and year out, all the dogs 
in a certain wing of the castle howl, at half-past eleven, after 
the fashion of dogs when they see ghosts. So well established 
is this that the howling of the dogs has become to be regarded 
as a kind of Greenwich time gun, a kind of daily, or rather 
nightly, check upon all the watches and clocks of the establish- 
ment, a very convenient arrangement which, it is hardly 


necessary to observe, can only be found in Ireland ! One 

night after eleven Mrs. D had gone to her own room, 

where she had been joined by her husband, but after some 
conversation he had gone down stairs again. At half-past 
eleven o'clock his wife came to the stair-head, and, leaning 
over the balustrade, called out for him to come upstairs. No- 
thing was further from her mind than the ghosts whom she had 
up to that time never seen, although, of course, she had heard 
the family legend of their existence. As she was looking down 
into the hall she was suddenly conscious of two hands being 
placed upon her shoulders, and looking round to see who it 
was, she was horrified to find herself looking into the face of a 
figure about her own height which had placed one of its hands 
upon each of her shoulders. Whether it was in male or female 
shape she could not say, but what she saw beyond all possi- 
bility of mistake was a human figure, looking as if it were made 
of grey cotton wool, which had placed its hands upon her 
shoulder and looked straight into her face. In an agony of 
fear, if the stair rails had not been in the way, she would have 
flung herself into the hall, but as it was she ran down stairs to 
her sister's room, where she fainted. On recovering she stated 
what she had seen. She had received such a fright that it 
was a fortnight before she had recovered from the nervous 
shock. Her testimony is perfectly clear and unmistakable ; she 
has never seen a ghost in her life either before or since. She 
was not in the least nervous, nor was she thinking of the possi- 
bility of any apparition appearing when she was startled by the 
sudden pressure of the spectre's hands upon her shoulder. 
The ghost did not speak, but simply touched her, and con- 
fronted her when she turned round. What came of it she does 
not know, nor has she seen it again, although it is taken as a 
matter of course that it is still going its rounds in the castle. 

Castles, especially ancient ruined feudal castles, are remark- 
able as the natural habitat of the conventional ghost. " Be- 
neath these battlements, within these walls, no end of foul 
crimes were perpetrated by these robber chiefs." And it 
is but in the fitness of things that the ghosts of these ancient 
chieftains should wander desolately round the ruins which 
witnessed in ancient times their deeds of violence and crime. 
At the same time, it must be admitted that it is seldom 
that the ghost which haunts the battlements is the perturbed 
spirit of the wicked lord. It is, perhaps, more frequently that 
of some humble retainer, or some hunted priest, or sometimes 
that of some injured victim of the vanished oppressor. 


Some North- Tyneside abounded with stories of haunted 
umbrian castles, but with the doubtful exception of Dilston, 
where Lady Denventwater was said to revisit the 
pale glimpses of the moon, to expiate the restless ambition 
which impelled her to drive Lord Derwentwater to the scaffold, 
none of them were leading actors in the tragedies of old time. 
There is, for instance, the ghost of Callaly Castle, of which a 
Northumbrian correspondent sends me thefollowing account : — 
11 In August I was with the Society of Antiquaries at Callaly 
Castle, the seat of Major A. H. Browne, and Mrs. Browne told 
me a ghost story about the place. In the older part of the 
castle, which was the pele-tower of the Claverings, there was 
known to be a room walled-up. During Major Browne's absence 
— I think he was taking a trip to India — Mrs. Browne, with the 
curiosity of her sex, had the wall broken into, but the room 
was found to be quite empty. She says, however, that she let 
a ghost out who is known as ' The wicked Priest.' Ever since 
they have been annoyed with the most unaccountable noises, 
which are sometimes so loud that you would think the house 
was being blown down. There are tramplings along the 
passages and noises in some of the bedrooms. I believe the 
ghost has been seen — it is a priest with a shovel hat. Mrs. 
Browne showed me the chamber, which is close to the roof. 
Probably it was one of those ' priests' hiding-holes ' of post- 
Reformation times. I am sorry I did not make notes of all 
Mrs. Browne told me." 

Then there is the seat of the Trevelyans, where there is a 
haunted chamber. A lady who spent several nights in it gave 
me a very graphic account of her experiences. She was a 
Northumbrian, with a nerve which was quite proof against all 
spectral terrors ; but her motherly heart was grieved to hear 
all through the night the incessant wailing of a spectral child. 
No baby was on the premises, as the old squire particularly 
objected to the presence of children ; but all the same, all 
night through, the cry of the baby, as if in pain, was distinctly 
audible in the haunted room. In the middle of the night, 
also, the door which was between the bedroom and dressing- 
room moved mysteriously to and fro, as if persons were 
passing through it, and at a certain hour of the night there was 
heard a heavy fall in the adjoining room, as if some one had 
fallen heavily on the floor. When inquiring next morning as 
to the origin of these mysterious sounds, they were told in 
whispers that those rooms were haunted, and that in the room 
where the fall of the heavy body had been heard, a member of 



the family many years before had committed suicide. The 
ruins of Seaton Delaval Castle are said to be haunted, but of 
this I can find no authentic record. Churton Hall, at one 
time the seat of the Duke of Argyle, has marked Tyneside 
with the ghost of the Duke's mistress, who is locally known as 
11 Silky." She was seen last by a nephew of Mr. Skipsey, the 
miner poet, who has been kindly interviewed for me by a 
correspondent in the North. 

Writing on December 7th, 1891, my correspondent says : — 
" I called upon Mr. Skipsey's nephew last Saturday. His 

name is Robert R . He lives at Churton. He is a man 

of about forty, as fine a specimen of a Northumbrian miner as 
you could meet. He struck me as being a quiet, steady- 
going, intelligent man, very matter-of-fact in his statements. 

The account that Mr. Skipsey gave me of R 's meeting 

with 'Silky' was inaccurate in one point. R was not 

proceeding towards the Balk Well, but towards the river. On 
my asking him whether he had had anything to drink, he 
admitted calling at the Hopewell Pit Inn and having two 
glasses of beer. He assured me, however, he was perfectly 
sober. He had been seeing his sweetheart, and was certainly 
not thinking of ' Silky ' as he went down the lane ; in fact, I 
understood him to say that, being a comparative stranger in 
the district, he knew nothing about the phantom lady. ' Silky ' 
came out of the hedge on the left-hand side of the road, and 
stood right before him. She came so close to him that he 
could distinctly see her face. She was a tall, elderly woman 
— he thought her age was between fifty and sixty — and she 
wore a bonnet, ' something like what the Salvation Army lasses 
wear,' he said. (This item of information is valuable. She 
was evidently a lady of the eighteenth century.) On her 
right was a ' black cur dog.' 

" She raised her arm above R 's head, and he fancies 

she must have touched the top of his head, as he felt a 
peculiar sensation run through him. He was too astounded 
to speak. He had both his hands in his pockets, but, such 
was her effect on him that, though he tried, he could not draw 
them out. She glided back into the hedge. A sound like a 
twig snapping made him fear she was coming back, and in a 
state of great fear he took to his heels. 

" I asked him if her dress made a rustling sound. He said 
no. The dress was a black one. The apparition seemed to 
him like a shadow. Personally, I should be disposed to 
consider that he had been frightened by the shadow of a 


waving branch, had he not been so explicit about the face 
and bonnet." 
a Haunted ' close this very brief chapter with the following 
castie narrative of a haunted castle in Wales, sent me by 

in Wales. a correS p 0n dent in the Principality, who supple- 
ments his narrative by the names and addresses, which I am 
only permitted to indicate by initials : — ■ 

"At the iVssizes held at C , in the spring of 1859, a case 

was tried in which one D W , a solicitor's clerk, was 

tried, on the accusation of a man named D G , on the 

charge of suborning a witness. Public sympathy in the Vale 

of C was universally on the side of the accused, the other 

party being a man of a very low moral type, who was eventually 
imprisoned for a year and a half for writing a threatening 
letter, and who was also strongly suspected of murdering his 
housekeeper. In stopping the case at an early stage the 
judge stated that, in his opinion, the positions of the accuser 
and accused ought to be reversed. To show their appreciation 
of the verdict, the inhabitants of the little market town of 

L , and the neighbouring village of Trefino, determined to 

celebrate the event with illuminations and fireworks. Amongst 
others who were highly delighted with D W 's acquit- 
tal was Miss M , lady housekeeper at the noble castle of 

G ■, who had business transactions with and highly appreci- 
ated D W- 's honesty and integrity. She, together 

with her niece, a Miss S , in order to see the illuminations, 

etc., sat up till about midnight at a window commanding the 

town. Wishing also to see the F display, she left her 

niece and went along a passage which led to the north side of 
the house. She had not proceeded many yards when, to her 
surprise, she noticed a figure standing in the middle of the 

passage. Her first impression was that J F , the old 

gardener, had taken to masquerading in honour of the event. 
In retreating before her the figure had to pass one of the 
windows, through which the moon shone brilliantly, and then 
she saw what appeared to be the presentment of a gentleman 
of the early part of the seventeenth century. She described 
him as being dressed in dark velvet, with knee breeches, silk 
hose, and buckled shoes. His hair hung in long curls over a 
large point-lace collar. The face reminded her of the portraits 
she had seen of Charles I. She followed him as far as the 
cross passage leading to the (reported) haunted room, the 
figure continuing to beckon to her. Here her terror over- 
came her, and, rushing back to her niece, she swooned. Her 


hair, previously showing a few streaks of grey, she declared 
turned perfectly white in that one night of terror. This was 
her first and last experience of the supernatural during her 
thirty-five years' residence in the beautiful but rather melan- 
choly-looking castle of G . Some members of the G 

family, residing at the magnificent family mansion of G , 

in L , having heard of her adventure, requested her 

attendance there, so that they might hear her own narrative of 
the affair, as she declared she could not identify the figure 

with any of the family portraits of the Dukes of A , the 

W s, of G (by Lely, Sir Joshua Reynolds, and other 

artists), which were at the castle. After giving full particulars, 
she was requested to visit the splendid picture gallery, to see 
if she could recognise any one of the portraits as representing 
the unearthly visitor. After looking over the endless collec- 
tion for some time, she stood opposite one representing a 

member of the W family, who, she said, lived at G 

between 1630 and 1640, but she did not mention his name." 



ALL these hauntings of castles and halls fade into in- 
significance compared with the famous haunting of Wil- 
lington Mill. 

I spent my boyhood within a mile of this mill,- which is one 
of the most famous haunted houses in existence. My father's 
deacon, Mr. Edward Elliott, one of the most excellent and 
sober-minded of men, lived in the house, and the stories of 
the hauntings were familiar to me from my childhood. I well 
remember the awed feeling with which I felt myself alone in 
the house when I was a very small boy, but I saw nothing and 
heard nothing. Of the reality of the apparitions which were 
seen and the noises which were heard no rational person can 
doubt, unless it be a sign of rationality absolutely to reject 
the concurrent testimony of a number of credible witnesses, 
many of whom approached the subject in the spirit of utter 

The story of Willington Mill has so often been referred to 
in a more or less fragmentary fashion by all of those who have 
been interested in the subject of the haunting of houses, that 
it may be well to take advantage of the present opportunity to 
place on record the exact truth so far as it can be known at 
the present time. 

Willington Mill stands on what is locally known 
T the 1 Gut 0n as Willington Gut, a sluggish tidal stream which 
empties itself into the Tyne between Willington 
Quay and Wallsend. The valley is crossed by a railway 
viaduct. The mill itself is said to have been built upon the 
site of a cottage occupied a hundred years ago by a witch, 
but that is a hazy and nebulous tradition which has never 
been verified. The best account of the mill and its haunt- 
ings was published by the Newcastle Weekly Leader, the 
writer being an old acquaintance of mine, Mr. Robert 
Davidson, of Rose Hill, Willington. Mr. Davidson is the 


son of a housemaid who spent eight years in the haunted 
house in the service of Mrs. Proctor, and he is, therefore, 
the natural heir and depositary of the local legends on the 
subject. The house which adjoins the mill was formerly 
occupied by Mr. Proctor, a member of the Society of 
Friends, an upright man, diligent in business, and universally 
respected by all who knew him. He had a partner of the 
name of Unthank, and when Mr. Davidson begins his story, 
some forty or fifty years ago, the Mill House was made so 
uncomfortable by unaccountable noises that Mr. Proctor and 
Mr. Unthank made arrangements to occupy it alternately four 
years at a time. Mr. Unthank did not believe in the ghost, 
and he got through his four years pretty comfortably. He is 
said to have heard a mangle going all night shortly after his 
arrival in the house, and on ascertaining that no mangle was 
on the premises, he became judiciously silent as to his unbelief 
in the hauntings of the mill. 

When Mr. Unthank had done his four years, 
T L^nder! n Mr. Proctor came to live at Willington, and 
brought with him Davidson's mother, then a ser- 
vant girl of the name of Mary Young. She, like the Proctors, 
was a pious and trustworthy witness, and whatever she may at 
first have thought of the haunting, she seems to have become 
acclimatised. During the eight years' service with Mrs. 
Proctor, Mary Young only "saw something" on three 
occasions. One Whit-Monday, after dinner, while washing 
up the dishes in the kitchen, she heard a footstep on the 
passage, and saw a lady in a lavender-coloured dress pass the 
kitchen door, go upstairs, and enter one of the upper rooms. 
She at once informed Mrs. Proctor that a lady had gone 
upstairs, and entered the room over the sitting-room. Mrs. 
Proctor replied that she expected no visitors, but that she had 
heard a great noise in that room, "nor will I stay any longer, 
but go with thee into the kitchen." 

d)Cat ^he secon d occasion on which she saw any- 

(2) Rabbit thing was more curious, and as the sight was 

( 3 ) sheep. s i iare( q fc y Mr# Davidson's father, who was at 
that time courting the maid of the mill, I quote it from the 
narrative : — 

" On one occasion, during the period that Thomas was 
courting Mary, he was standing at the window outside (no 
followers being allowed inside, lest fabulous reports were sent 
abroad). He had given the usual signal. The night was 
clear, and the stars beamed forth their light from a cloudless 


sky. Suddenly something appeared which arrested my father's 
attention. Looking towards the mill, which was divided from 
the house by an open space, he beheld what he supposed was 
a whitish cat. It came walking along in close proximity to his 
feet. Thinking Miss Puss very cheeky, he gave her a kick ; 
but his foot felt nothing, and it quietly continued its march, 
followed by my father, until it suddenly disappeared from his 
gaze. Still the ghost was not thought of by him. Returning 
to the window, and looking in the same direction, he again 
beheld it suddenly come into existence. This time it came 
hopping like a rabbit, coming quite as close to his feet as 
before. He determined to have a good rap at it, and took 
deliberate aim ; but, as before, his foot went through it and 
felt nothing. Again he followed it, and it disappeared at the 
same spot as its predecessor. The third time he went to the 
window, and in a few moments it made its third appearance, 
not like unto a cat or a rabbit, but fully as large as a sheep, 
and quite luminous. On it came, and my father was fixed 
to the spot. All muscular power seemed for the moment 
paralysed. It moved on, disappearing at the same spot as the 
preceding apparitions. My father declared that if it was 
possible for 'hair to stand on end,' his did just then. Think- 
ing for once that he had seen sufficient, he went home, keeping 
the knowledge of this scene to himself." 

Next day he called at the mill, and told Mr. Proctor what 
he had seen. Mr. Proctor listened to his story, and then told 
him he had seen the same thing himself on another occasion, 
on the front of the house. These were the only two apparitions 
visible to either Mr. or Mrs. Thomas Davidson. If they saw 
little they heard much. 

The noises that went on intermittently in the 

M S<£e»! w mil1 wsre onl y t0 ° fr e q uent and unmistakable. Mr. 
Proctor did his level best to ascertain what caused 
the noises, but it was all in vain. The floors of the house 
were taken up, but nothing was found ; then the floors were 
covered with meal, in order that the footmarks might be 
detected ; but the ghost of Wellington Mill trod with too light 
a step even to leave a trace upon the flour-strewn floor, and 
the utmost diligence of the inquirers was baffled. Sometimes 
the noises were very violent. On the Whit-Monday on which 
Mrs. Davidson saw the lady in the lavender silk dress, the 
uproar in the house was the worst that was known during the 
eight years. Noises were kept up so violently all night that 
neither the family nor the servants got a wink of sleep. 


About midsummer in the year 1840 Mr. Edward 
T Mr R Drury? fDrur y» of Sunderland, asked Mr. Proctor to be 
allowed to remain in the house all night with no 
other companion than his watch dog, upon whose courage and 
fidelity he said he put more reliance than on any three gentle- 
men known to him. Mr. Proctor accepted Mr. Drury's offer, 
and on the 3rd of July Mr. Drury with pistols and a Mr. 
Thomas Hudson, whom he had substituted for his dog, made 
arrangements to spend the evening in the house. Mr. Proctor 
was also in the house. After the doors had been locked, Mr. 
Drury and Mr. Hudson examined every room most minutely, 
and satisfied themselves that there was no one in the house 
except themselves and Mr. Proctor. It was ten days before 
Mr. Drury sufficiently recovered from the experiences of that 
night to be able to write out an intelligible report of what had 
happened. It seems that Mr. Drury, although he had a brace 
of pistols in his pocket, had not loaded them. After the 
examination of the house he and Mr. Drury sat down on a 
third-story landing, about eleven o'clock at night. At ten 
minutes to twelve they both heard a noise as if a number 
of people were pattering with their bare feet upon the floor. 
A few minutes afterwards they heard a noise as if some one 
was knocking with his knuckles amongst their feet ; then they 
heard a hollow cough from an adjoining room, and a sound as 
if a person was rustling against the wall coming upstairs. 

At ten minutes to one o'clock Mr. Drury took 
The Greyf m out n ^ s watcn to ascertain the time, and on look- 
ing up from it his eyes became rivetted upon the 
closet door, which he distinctly saw open. From the open 
door appeared the figure of a female attired in greyish 
garments, with the head bending downwards and her left 
hand pressed against her chest ; the right hand was extended 
towards the floor with the index-finger pointing downwards. 
Mr. Hudson had gone to sleep, and the grey lady advanced 
cautiously across the floor, extending its right hand towards 
him. At that moment Mr. Drury rushed at it, giving a most 
awful yell, but instead of grasping it he fell upon his friend, 
and recollected nothing distinctly for nearly three hours after- 
wards. Mr. Proctor, who heard the shriek, carried him down- 
stairs. Mr. Drury was beside himself with fright, crying out 
in agony, " There she is. Keep her off. For God's sake, 
keep her off!" For nearly three hours he kept on saying 
this, after which he came to himself, and said that not for 
;£ 10,000 would he put his foot across the door-step of that 


house again. Mr. Hudson, who was asleep and was awakened 
by the shriek, saw nothing. Writing upon what he called 
" that horrid and most awful affair," Mr. Drury said that no 
one could have gone into that house more disbelieving in 
respeet to anything happening, but that no one could be more 
satisfied than himself. 

By the Mouth " * am persuaded," he told Mr. Proctor, "of the 

ot Thirty horrid apparition, that I would affirm that what I 

Witnesses. gaw ^^ m y Qwn e ^ QS wag a punishment to me for 

my scoffing and unbelief." " Happy," he added, " are those 
that believe and have not seen." Mr. Proctor wrote to him in 
acknowledging this letter as follows : — 

" WlLLINGTON, *]tk VIO. 

" 9///, 1840. 
" Respected Friend, Edward Drury, — 

11 Having been at Sunderland I did not receive thine of 
the 6th till yesterday morning. I am glad to hear that thou 
art getting well over thy unlooked-for visitation. I hold in 
respect thy bold and manly assertion of the truth in the face 
of that ridicule and ignorant conceit with which that which is 
called the supernatural in the present day is usually assailed. 
I shall be glad to receive thy detail in which it will be needful 
to be very particular in showing that thou couldst not be asleep, 
or attacked by nightmare, or mistake a reflection of the candle 
as some sagaciously suppose. 

•'I remain, thine respectfully, 

"Joseph Proctor. 

" P.S. — I have about thirty witnesses to various things which 
cannot be satisfactorily accounted for on any other principle 
than that of spiritual agency." 

Mr. Joseph Proctor was acclimatised to the ghost, but his 
family were less bold, and the visitation caused great terror in 
the household, and no wonder, for the noises were enough to 
try the nerves of the boldest. 

Sometimes, says Mr. Davidson, the noise was 

The Noises. •,-, • / , • . ,. ,, 

like a paviour at work with his rammer thumping 
on the floor, making all things rattle and shake that were not 
fixtures. Again it was like a donkey galloping round the 
room overhead ; at another time it was as if a shovelful of 
scrappy iron had been thrown upon the fireplace and fender. 
It was very difficult to get servants to remain in the house. 
Heavy footsteps were heard going up and down stairs, door 


handles turned, doors creaked as if they were opening, occa- 
sionally the room would be filled with bluish smoke. Sticks 
would crackle as if they were burning, but when the closet 
door was opened no fire was to be seen. At other times it 
was as if newspapers were being crumpled and trampled about 
football fashion. On one occasion Mr. Davidson's mother 
counted 120 taps on the wash-table, as if some one were 
striking it with a pencil. On another occasion the spirit made 
itself so fearfully palpable in Mr. Proctor's bedroom, that he 
adjured it in the following words : — " If thou art a good spirit, 
why not stay in thy own place ? if thou art a bad spirit, why 
torment me and my house ? " With a great noise the spirit 
took its departure for that night. Next night, however, it was 
as busy as ever. But it was not only by noises that it incon- 
venienced the denizens. 
One Ghost When two of Mrs. Proctor's sisters were staying 
seen by Two at the mill on a visit, their bed was suddenly 
ime. v j | ent: iy s h a k er)) the curtains hoisted up all round 
to their tester and then as rapidly let down again, and this 
again in rapid succession. The curtains were taken off the 
next night, with the result that they both saw a female figure 
of mysterious substance and of a greyish blue hue come out of 
the wall at the head of the bed and lean over them. They 
both saw it distinctly. They saw it come out of and go back 
again into the wall. After that they refused to sleep any more 
in the mill, and no wonder. Air. Davidson's sister-in-law had 
a curious experience on one occasion. One evening she 
was putting one of the bedrooms right, and looking towards 
the dressing-table, she saw what she supposed was a white 
towel lying on the ground. She went to pick it up, but 
imagine her surprise when she found that it rose up, and went 
up behind the dressing-table over the top, down on the floor 
across the room, disappeared under the door, and was heard 
to descend the stairs with a heavy step. The noise which it 
made in doing so was distinctly heard by Mr. Proctor and 
others in the house. 

I have never been able to make out exactly 

Another Ghost 


nby Four. 1 whether there was only one ghost or several i 
the mill. If only one it could assume various 
shapes. On one occasion, Mr. Mann the old mill foreman, 
with his wife and daughter, and Mrs. Proctor's sister, all four 
saw the figure of a bald-headed old man in a flowing robe like 
a surplice gliding backwards and forwards about three feet 
from the floor, level with the bottom of the second story 


window ; he then stood still in the middle of the window, and 
the part of the body, which appeared quite luminous, showed 
through the blind. While in that position the framework of 
the window was invisible, while the body was as bright as a 
star, and diffused a radiance all around; then it turned a 
bluish tinge, and gradually faded away from the head down- 
wards. On one occasion Mr. Robert Davidson's father spent 
a night in the house. He saw nothing, but at midnight a 
noise began which continued about fifteen minutes, and gradu- 
ally became louder and louder, until it became so deafening 
that it was as if rivetters were at work on a boiler in the room. 
His companion was asleep, Davidson nudged him, said "Jack," 
instantly the noise ceased. When Jack went to sleep again 
the noise began worse than ever in half an hour ; the building 
seemed to shake to its very foundations. The bed curtains 
shook, the rings rattled ; this continued for a long time ; again 
he said "Jack," and the noises ceased. 
_. _^ TT There was one feature of the Willington ghost 

The Door Un- ... .. _, , 11 

locked and which was peculiar. Most ghosts pass through 
unbolted. doors, anc j even w ] ien they seem to open them, the 
doors are found locked as before. The Willington ghost, how- 
ever, not merely passed through doors, but left them open. 
On one occasion, when family prayers were being conducted 
by Mr. Proctor, a noise began in the room above, a heavy 
footstep descended the stairs, passed the room door, and then 
proceeded to the front door, then the bar was removed, the 
lock turned, two bolts drawn back, the latch lifted, the door 
flung open, and the footsteps pass into the front garden. Mr. 
Proctor ceased reading, went out into the passage, and, behold, 
the door was wide open. Mrs. Proctor was almost fainting, 
and Mr. Proctor filled himself with gloomy reflections as to 
the opportunities which such ghostly habit would afford to 

In November, 1841, Mr. Carr paid a visit to the 
Spectral ] 10use when the figure of an animal about two feet 

Animals. ' . & . 

high appeared in the window of the blue room. 
They made a careful search, but found nothing, although Mr. 
and Mrs. Mann, who were outside, saw the animal in the 
window without intermission for half an hour, then it began to 
decrease in size and gradually disappeared. That night Mr. 
Davidson's aunt felt a heavy blow on the chair-back as she was 
sitting in the nursery with the children ; then the night-table 
was moved from one side of the room to the other without any 
one apparently touching it. The disturbances were so con- 


tinuous that one of the millers was sent for, and he sat up all 
night. Mr. Carr had a terrible night of it, and left next morn- 
ing, saying that he could never come back again. The next 
night Mr. Davidson's aunt and Bessy Mann saw a whitish 
figure glide downstairs, cross the nursery floor, and enter a 
closet, from which an hour before they had heard a prolonged 
groan. Occasionally the ghost assumed the shape of an animal. 
A two years' old boy saw it in the shape of a " bonny pussy," 
while Mr. Davidson's aunt thought it looked like a white 
pocket-handkerchief knotted at the four corners, which kept 
dancing up and down, sometimes rising as high as the first 
floor window. One day, when his aunt was cleaning boots by 
the kitchen table, she was suddenly startled by the bark of a 
dog, and two paws were heavily laid upon her shoulders, so as 
to make her lay hold of the table for support. Mrs. Proctor 
ran into the kitchen, but no dog could be found, and all the 
doors were shut, and there were no dogs in the house. Rev. 
Mr. Caldwell, my father's predecessor at the Congregational 
Church, Howden, sat up all night with another minister, but 
saw nothing, although they heard noises as if bass mats were 
being drawn over the floor. 

Mr. John Richardson, an old and trusty servant 
ancUh^Bibie °^ ^ r - Proctor's, on one occasion sat up with an 
old Quaker gentleman who had come to discover 
the cause of the disturbances. The old Quaker asked Mr. 
Richardson to get a Bible, and he would read a chapter. No 
sooner did he begin to read than the candle began to jump in 
the candlestick and to oscillate to such an extent that the 
Quaker could not see to read. The moment he stopped, the 
candle became quiet. The old Quaker looked at Mr. Richard- 
son, and said, " Strange ! " He began to read again, and again 
the candle began to sway from side to side. " Art thou afraid, 
John?" said the Quaker. "No," said John, "but I feel a 
peculiar sensation which I cannot describe." "Let us pray, 
John," said the Quaker. Immediately a terrific noise arose in 
the room, all the furniture seemed to be driven from its place, 
the candlesticks rattled on the table, newspapers seemed to be 
scattered to and fro in great profusion, the whole building 
seemed shaken. So terrible was the hubbub that John could 
not hear a single word of the Quaker's petition. The moment 
the Quaker arose from his knees everything became quiet 
Another Quaker, who faced the intruder with a bold " Who 
art thou? In the name of the Lord, I bid thee depart," was 
received with a mocking sound which Mr. Davidson says only 


can be described as a spasmodic suction of the air through the 

The Ghost The children, however, were the chief ghost- 
with Eyeholes seers. No one was allowed to tell them any- 
but no Eyes. t ^ a b 0Ut t he ghost, and any servant who told a 
fairy tale in Willington Mill was instantly dismissed. No con- 
spiracy of silence, however, would prevent the children from 
seeing the ghost. On one occasion one of the little girls came 
to Mrs. Davidson and said, "There is a lady sitting on the 
bed in mamma's bedroom. She had eyeholes, but no eyes ; 
and she looked so hard at me." On one occasion a little girl 
told Mrs. Davidson that on the previous night a lady had come 
out of the wall and looked into the glass ; she had something 
tied over her head; she had eyeholes, but no eyes. On 
another occasion a boy of two years old was charmed with the 
ghost ; he laughed and kicked, crying out, " Ah ! dares some- 
body, peepee, peepee." On several occasions the children 
would have much amusement in chasing up or downstairs a 
" funny cat or a bonny monkey," which they saw before them. 

tu nu * On one occasion his mother saw through the 

The Ghost . , . . *j, 

that Snuffed bed curtain a figure cross the room to the table on 
the Candle. w jj| c |, t j ie ||g^t was burning, take up the snuffers 
and snuff the candle, then cross the room towards the bed, laid 
its hand upon the curtains all round the bed, and then strike 
the side table with such force that she thought the furniture 
seriously damaged, but when she examined it, it was uninjured. 
The last time the apparition was seen was quite recently, and 
I well remember the story being told at Sunday School by my 
scholars. It was long after the Proctors had left the mill, and 
the manifestations, it was noticed, were always worst when a 
member of the Proctor family was on the premises. 

On this occasion the mill was working night 
AppadSon. an0 ^ day, when the engine-man, on going into the 
engine-house at midnight, saw the eyeless woman 
sitting there. With a wild scream he flung himself out of the 
window into the Gut, plunged through the mud and water to 
the opposite side, and never stopped until he reached home at 
Shields, some three miles off. Such at least was the story 
which was reported in the village. Since then the glory seems 
to have departed from the haunted mill. A converted rabbi 
inhabited the house for some time, and during his stay the 
manifestations partially returned ; since then it has been cut 
up into tenements, and when I was in Newcastle Mr. Davidson 
informed me that there were strange sounds heard, but nothing 


to compare to the infernal charivari which went on fifty years 

Such is the story of the haunted house at Will- 
An My n s S t°ry! d in g ton - Mr - Proctor has lost the diary which he 
kept of the strange occurrences in that undesir- 
able residence. Mr. Edward Elliott, my father's senior deacon, 
was a sober, pious, most veracious old gentleman. He was 
loath to speak about the apparitions at the mill. Personally, 
he had never seen anything, but he had heard plenty. His 
wife and only daughter also bore witness as to the reality of 
the commotion made by their invisible fellow-denizens. The 
usual explanation is entirely out of the question, that of rats. 
Not all the rats that followed the Pied Piper of Hamlin to 
destruction could make the row which occasionally disturbed 
the peace of Willington Mill. From time to time various 
explanations were invented to account for the phenomenon 
of the objective reality of the manifestations of which there 
can be no doubt unless all the most reliable human evidence 
is to be regarded as worthless. But no explanation held water. 
The mill remains to-day, as heretofore, an insoluble mystery, 
with its lady in lavender, eyeless old woman, its mysterious 
animals, its bald-headed surpliced clergyman, and heavy 
footfalls, apparently produced without any visible cause. 

The following is Mr. Edmund Proctor's latest information 
on the subject, dated October 5th, 1891 : — 

" I fear I cannot help you. Tomlinson's ' Guide to 
Northumberland,' or the Appendix to ' Quaker Records — the 
Richardsons of Cleveland,' by Mrs. Boyce, contain the refer- 
ences to all that is published in regard to the Haunted House 
at Willington. 

" Of what is unpublished there is little, if anything, except 
my father's diary, which I am under promise to send to Mr. 
Myers for the ' Journal of Psychical Research/ but which is 
not ready yet. 

" The house is not pulled down, but is outwardly a wreck, 
and inwardly divided into tenements. There have, I believe, 
been no disturbances of any sort for many years. 

" When the house was unoccupied, perhaps ten years ago, 
I visited it twice — once with a well-known ' medium,' once 
with a party of five, who sat up alone till 5 a.m. — and both 
cases were without result worth record. 

" I made inquiries of the present tenants a few months ago, 
but they have absolutely nothing to tell." 


There was an attempt made in 1853 t0 f* n d out 
The ciairvoy- the secret of the mystery of the mill by clairvoy- 

ant Mm. t e ance. The record of this interesting experiment 
is included in Mrs. Henry Sidgwick's paper " On 
the Evidence for Clairvoyance," published in the eighteenth 
part of the " Proceedings of the Society for Psychical Research," 
in April, 1891. The clairvoyant was a pitman's wife in the 
county of Durham, and the record of her visions collected by 
Mr. Myers is one of the most extraordinary and convincing 
pieces of evidence for the reality of clairvoyance in the 
mesmeric state that is to be found in the archives of the 
Psychical Research Society. This good woman, Mr. Myers 
informs us, never received any fee, and never made any 
exhibition of her powers, fearing to be suspected of being a 
witch. How many rare and invaluable talents have thus been 
lost to the world ! Dr. F. mesmerised her for sleeplessness, 
and discovered that, when in the mesmeric state, she was 
wonderfully clairvoyant. 

The narrative in Mr. Sidgwick's paper is chiefly 
Jane cTiri.^ e ' s composed of his notes. " Jane," as the clairvoy- 
ante was termed, could in her mesmeric state visit 
any part of the world in thought, and describe accurately places 
which she had never seen, such as the interior of St. Paul's, 
the building of St. Peter's in Rome, the tent of Dr. Livingstone 
in Africa. " Jane " was a remarkably refined woman, sweet and 
gentle-looking, with delicately cut features, and wavy dark hair. 
She was very religious, conscientious, and resigned. But her 
Second Self, when liberated by the mesmeric sleep, was quite 
a different personality. She always spoke when in trance of 
her body as " we's girl," regarding her as something quite dis- 
tinct from herself, who troubles her to give her pains in her 
side and face, for Jane suffered from very bad health. Her 
body was without feeling when in the sleep. She could read 
the thoughts of those present, and when tired would read what 
she saw in the mind of the mesmeriser instead of taking the 
usual journeys to which he was wishing her. The following is 
the record of Dr. F.'s notes of Jane's attempt to solve the 
mystery of the mill. It is interesting not merely on account 
of the mill story, but as an illustration of the methods of clair- 
voyance. The narrative is considerably condensed. 

" After sleep was produced, I said : ' We are on 

A th^Min! a railway, and can see a large building like a mill ; 

where is it ? ' { Is it a mill for grinding food ? ' she 

replied. I said, ' Yes.' She then asked, ' May we go into 


the mill ? ' and upon my giving her leave she described the 
interior of the building, when I stopped her and told her to 
leave the mill and enter the house near it. She said a gentle- 
man lived in the house, but directly afterwards corrected herself, 
and remarked he was not a gentleman, but a gentleman had 
formerly lived in it. She now seemed very much puzzled, her 
face accurately expressing the perplexity of her mind. 'Why 
did the gentleman leave this pretty house ? ' ' Oh, yes, it is 
something about a lady.' At last she said, in a low tone, 
1 Now we see it was not this gentleman's wife, for she's alive; 
it was a vision that frightened him away.' I now told her that 
I brought her to that house for the purpose of finding out why 
the lady haunted the house. I said she had better go back to 
the time when the gentleman lived in the house. She directly 
answered, 'Yes, we will. Now I see the gentleman has a 
wife and a family, and I see the vision standing before him ; 
but why does it make these noises ? Why does it now frighten 
them all ? and why does it frighten the servants in that way so 
that the gentleman is forced to leave ? She thinks he has no 
right to be there, but why has he no right to be there ? It 
cannot be an angel of light, can it ? It must be an angel of 
darkness, and to find out an angel of darkness we will have to 
go a long way to a bad place.' " 

That was the beginning of it. It will be noticed that nothing 
was said as to the place. Dr. F. thought of the mill, and she 
at once went to it, and saw it, corrected her mistakes — for in- 
stance, he thought that was a large garden, in reality it was 
a small one — and described exactly what was to be seen. 
Then occurred a curious thing. Dr. F. told Jane she had 
better find out the gentleman. She at once said, " Shall we 
go again upon the railway? " and there and then went first to a 
town (Shields), and then to a village where after a little hunt- 
ing about, she saw — always in clairvoyant-trance — Mr. Joseph 
Proctor, whom she had never seen or heard of before, but 
whom she accurately described. Jane, I should mention, had 
never heard of the haunted mill ; she had once passed over 
Willington Bridge by rail, but knew absolutely nothing about 
the story which she was wished to unravel. 

On July 21st, 1853, another experiment took 

A V Ghos ts f the pl ace - This time Jane was mesmerised by a lady, 

Mrs. Frazer, Dr. F. being present and taking notes. 

On this occasion she had a very clear and accurate vision of 

the spirits which haunted the mill. 

" ' It looks like a vision. It is a lady.' * What is it like ? ' 


asked the operator. * It has a face, but not like we's face. It 
is very white, but she moves about so quick j she has eyes, 
but no sight in them ; she is like a shadow.' ' Has it a name 
in its head ? ' asked Mrs. Frazer. ' No, she has no name and 
no brains ; she is just like a shadow, and flits about so quickly 
from place to place. We don't care about the lady. We want 
to go into the house and downstairs. We want to go into the 
cellar. Is there a way to the sea in this house ? We will go 
downstairs into the lowest part and take a candle. We are not 
a coward. We will examine and find a place to the sea. Let 
us look — there is a cellar Could not the gentleman examine the 
cellar ? He must have stronger people than we to look into 
them, we are too weak. We can't see any place of conceal- 
ment. Tell him to bring somebody to look down. There 
must be a place of concealment. Like it ran down to the sea, 
and people came up for some bad purpose. It seems like 
something about the sea. We'll tell the gentleman with the 
broad hat about this. We's not afraid ; there must be some- 
thing concealed there, and it might be found out in this cellar, 
and we will come and help him. Let us go to the gentleman. 
We want this place looked into, and, mind, not a slight exam- 
ination, for something will be found there.' * Are they real 
people, then ? ' asked Mrs. Frazer. ' Well, she is a strange 
one, and walks about so quietly.' ' Has it spoken ? ' said the 
operator. ' Yes, it has spoken. But there are so many, there 
are two or three kinds of animals, We's only a coward after all.' 
1 What are the animals like ? ' inquired Mrs. Frazer. ■ We 
won't be afraid,' was the reply. 'Do we like to look ? One 
is like a monkey, and another like a dog. Had the lady dogs 
and monkeys ? They go all about the house. She has got 
funny things, has she not ? We don't like her. What is that 
other one ? Do we know what we call it ? It is not a 
pussy, it runs very fast, and gets amongst feet. It is a rabbit, 
but a very quick one.' 'Are they real animals?' said Mrs. 
Frazer. ' We don't touch them to see,' replied she ; ' we would 
not like a bite. What a violent woman she is ! She wants to 
stay all alone in that house, but we can't see into her, she is so 
strange. We have never seen her eat any supper nor anything 
else.' 'Has she a name in her head?' inquired Mrs. Frazer. 
1 No, she has no brains. She is now going upstairs, and it. is 
so dark. She has no light with her, but we have light.' ' Are 
the animals with her now ? ' said Mrs. Frazer. ' No, they are 
not. She is all white : it is loose, not a dress like we's, but 
something loose thrown over her. She disturbs everybody.' 



1 Why don't they catch her ? ' asked Mrs. Frazer. * Because she 
moves so quickly. But the mischief is in the cellar, and tell 
the gentleman to look there.' " 

[Here again she slept.] 

" Upon awakening she said, ' We won't have her for ours.' 
' Is she always the same?' inquired the operator. 'We will 
look,' was the reply. ' Now she is coming downstairs again 
to go her rounds. She makes me feel cold. Now she is as 
dark as the devil. It is very strange ; we don't like her.' 
1 Look and see what her dress is like,' said Mrs. Frazer. ' We 
will. It is not like we, for it is all dark. Where have we seen 
anything like it before ? It is not like we's English ladies' 
dress. Where has she got that? It is like the dress we saw 
in foreign countries — a Spanish lady kind of dress. They are 
rich things she has on ; it rustles like silk. Is it not strange? 
She is just like a devil.' " 

July 2W1 or 29///, 1853. 
D ce i uar he " ^ ne was again sent to see the ' haunted house,' 
when she said she saw the figure of a man who also 
troubled them. Mrs. Frazer asked her if it was not a real man 
she saw. Could it not be the person who now lived there ? 
but she said, ' No, it is a vision ; he has no brains in his head ; 
he looks very fierce, his eyes flash like a torn cat's — like a 
tiger's ; he has a white dress oh like a surplice. Oh, how angry 
he is ! he is so indignant at being disturbed ; he does not want 
the gentleman to find out what he is there for. It is the man 
who makes the noises in the house ; he goes stamping about. 
We did not like the woman, but the man is far worse. Oh, 
how angry he is ! What a commotion there is in the cellar ! 
They have not made the hole large enough ; it is not close 
enough to the wall. They must make a wide, deep hole close 
to the wall, and they should take down the wall.' Mrs. Frazer 
said, ' But perhaps the house will fall if they take the wall 
down.' She replied, ' Never mind, if they only find it out.' 
She said that the woman walked about with her hands upon 
her breast as if in pain ; but the man goes stamping about 
very angry. ' Oh ! how indignant he is that the gentleman is 
digging in the cellar.' " 

It is noteworthy that Jane described exactly the phenomena 
which Mr. Davidson declared actually existed. Jane had no 
conceivable motive for deceiving any one. She knew nothing 
about it, and was completely unconscious, when she came out 
of the mesmeric state, of what she had seen or said. 

Mr. Proctor caused excavations to be made in the cellar, 


and found nothing. Local gossip, however, always asserted 
at when the men dug down to a certain depTlK^ne 

n tery h? V%Z ^'^ * hich th ^ befiSdto 
Willi \ 7 ' ■ p01nt ' h °wever, Mr. Proctor so said 

"ftSf"^' "r'T " ;at t0 -moTeihe stone 

ShSaasasf" of the mn '' and s ° the ^^ 

this start ^wTZr*-** Mr - Proctor denies the truth of 
Sffif tne n^ ' S "* "*" a Shad ° W of a clue <° «- 



MR. RALPH HASTINGS, of Broadmeadow, Teign- 
mouth, wrote me on October ist, 1891, stating that 
some years ago he was a spectator of extraordinary occurrences 
in a so-called haunted house, and noted them in his diary. 
He adds : — 

" I have often thought of making a fair copy of the same, 
but have been deterred by various reasons, notably the evil 
influences that even at this lapse of time seem to stretch to- 
wards me when I go back to them in imagination. However, 
if they are ever to be committed to writing, here is apparently 
an opportunity. Should you desire my 'relation,' perhaps you 
will kindly state when you will require it." 

Mr. Hastings wrote on October 23rd, enclosing his MSS. 
He said : — 

" I herewith enclose the communication. I am sorry for 
the delay, but, as you can imagine, it has taken a considerable 
time to extract from my diary and present in a readable form. 

11 The relation I have here set down is taken from notes of 
occurrences that I recorded faithfully in my diary at the time, 
and which, if not sensational and highly coloured as similar 
narrations often are, possesses at all events the advantages ot 
being a perfectly truthful one. 

" I was spending some months of the summer of '73 at a 
favourite watering-place on the S.E. coast. One afternoon 
(the 19th June) I went to visit some friends who had lived 
many years in an old-fashioned house which stood in a quad- 
rangle, and was approached from the church by a narrow lane 
on a declivity. Brook House was a commodious red-bricked 
structure of three stories, faced by a court, and with its ground- 
floor windows unseen from the outside by reason of the lofty 
wall that encircled them, and which was continued sloping 
downwards till the base of the hill was reached. Local tradi- 
tion gave it the foremost place for antiquity in a town at that 



time abounding in old houses, but now, alas, mostly replaced 
or modernised. The ' tenants at will ' were an old lady, the 
widow of a captain in the 79th Highlanders, and her daughter. 
" On the day in question, as I approached the 
F the Ghost° f nouse fr° m Church Lane, I happened to glance 

at the window to the right on the second floor. 
There I saw to my astonishment the apparent figure of Miss 
B. standing partially dressed, arranging her hair, and looking in- 
tently at me. On entering the house I was at once shown into 
the drawing room, which was on the right-hand side of the door, 
the dining-room being on the left. I found Miss B. sitting 
reading ! Some days after (July 3rd) I called again. In the 
course of conversation I asked Miss B. whether she had been 
long in the room when the servant admitted me on my previous 
visit. ' More than an hour,' she replied. Observing my 
astonishment, she inquired the cause. ' What did I mean ? ' 
I then told her what I had seen. In a tone of distress she re- 
plied, ' It is useless to conceal from you that strange things do 
take place here. I have been observed seemingly by others 
than yourself. I have not been in the room you refer to 
for weeks, nor has it been occupied for years.' My curiosity 
was now aroused, but scouting the idea of anything super- 
natural, I proposed we should go up into the room in question. 
" On entering, I went to the window looking on 
The RcK>m! lted to the gardens ; there were three, the third looking 

on to the hill at the side of the house. Throwing 
up the window, the afternoon being sultry, and sitting on the 
ledge, I began talking of other subjects than the matter in 
hand. After some ten minutes I remarked, ' Nothing happens 
when you are expecting it.' The door was open, the words 
were hardly out of my mouth when a fearful sound as of a 
raging crash of bells filled the air around us ; it lasted about 
half a minute. There was formerly a bell in the servant's 
room, which divided this from a corresponding one, but it had 
long been removed, as it used to ring of its own accord. 
Another singular circumstance was that about five minutes 
previously we had heard distinctly some one come upstairs and 
go into the room adjoining; then we heard the servant's voice 
exclaiming from down-stairs (we had heard her, or her double, 
come up and go into her room, as above related, and Miss 
B. had called out, ' Are you there, L. ? ' and she had replied) 
1 Did you hear those bells, Miss ; they are none of ours ? ' 
The bells ! they had literally rang in our ears as if swung 
by invisible hands, and then, without a last tinkling vibra- 


tion, stopped with curious suddenness. I had had enough 
for one day, and shortly afterwards left. Before leaving Miss 
B. related an extraordinary circumstance which took place the 
night before. Having retired to rest — she occupied a room 
on the first floor— on turning her face to the wall, not being 
able to sleep, she saw a gossamer veil, as it seemed, thrown 
over her head. Terrified, she turned, and after a little time, 
thinking she had been deceived, turned again to the wall ; it 
was repeated. 

" I should like to speak here of the former history 
B^oo^Housefof the house, so far as it could be learnt. In the 
year 1815, just before Waterloo, some officers were 
quartered in the town, and one here at Brook House ; there 
was a lady, young and beautiful (so report said), with him, his 
wife or otherwise was not known ; she used to be seen pacing 
up and down the room with a child in her arms, apparently in 
great distress ; suddenly she disappeared, and was never again 
seen. Although anticipating the narrative in detail, I may 
here say that, one summer afternoon, whilst in the garden, I 
saw this lady distinctly walking backwards and forwards in the 
room above mentioned, and, no less distinctly, I saw the child 
in her arms. More than this, I then saw a figure apparently 
ascend some steps in the centre of the room and suspend some- 
thing from the beam that stretched athwart it. 

" My curiosity being now fully aroused, I went 
W windo U w? he to the house the next day, July 4th, accompanied 
by a lady, a mutual friend. We went up into the 
room, threw the window open — it being very hot — looking on 
to the garden, and then went downstairs into the drawing-room, 
where we had some music. We went up again in about half 
an hour's time. Miss F. would not come, but went into the 
garden. We stayed a few minutes, when we had reached the 
first floor, and went into a room, a spare one, opposite to 
Miss B.'s. She showed me some valuable Indian jewellery 
which her father had brought her the year of the suppression 
of the Mutiny. We then went upstairs, the window was shut, 
we sat there for some time, throwing it wide open. When 
we went down Miss F. said that whilst she was in the garden 
and we were in the room on the first flight looking at the 
jewellery she saw that the window was shut, and then a bulky 
form came up to it ; she then left. We went down the garden, 
and on looking up beheld the window shut and hasped. 
Again we went upstairs ; a suffocating hot dead air pervaded 
the room. On our way Miss B. had exclaimed, and, on my 


inquiring the cause, said she had felt the momentary grasp 
of a hand round her right ankle. Wild with a fevered curio- 
sity, and in spite of her remonstrances, I unhasped the window, 
flinging it open once more ; we went down quickly into the 
garden, to the middle walk, leading to the gardener's house, 
whence we could command a full view of the window ; it was 
still open. 

" Presently, to our horror, a figure appeared 
T Da5iisht. in resembling Miss B., yet most unlike her; its 
fearful eyes were gazing at me without movement 
and totally expressionless. What, then, caused the arresting 
of the heart's pulsation (as it felt) and blood, that the moment 
before had burnt as it coursed madly througli the veins, to be 
chilled to ice ? This — one was face to face with a spirit, and 
withered by the contact. Those eyes — I can see them — I can 
feel them — after the lapse of nearly twenty years. Miss 13. 
had incontinently fainted when she saw the shoulders (as she 
afterwards described it) of the figure. I continued gazing 
spellbound ; like ' The Wedding Guest,' I was held by the 
spirit's eye, and I could not choose but look. The dreadful 
hands were lifted automatically ; they rested on the window- 
sash. It came partly down, stayed a moment, then noiselessly 
closed, and I saw a hand rise and hasp it. I gazed steadfastly 
throughout. What impressed me strangely was this peculiarity, 
that as soon as the sash had passed the face, the latter vanished 
— the hands remained ; the unreality of the actual movement 
of the window as it descended also seemed to contradict me : 
it suggested the (for want of a better comparison) mechanical 
passage of stage scenery, and some sorts of toys that are pulled 
by wires : it made no noise whatever. Now I distinctly 
recognised the shape as that of Rhoda, Miss B.'s elder 
sister, who had been dead some twelve years. I had never 
seen her during life, but I at once knew her by the resem- 
blance to a portrait in the drawing-room, even (let cavillers 
laugh !) to the red bow which she always wore. The following 
afternoon, being July 5th, I went to Brook House, and we — 
i.e., Miss B. and myself — went up into the room. I threw the 
window up. We then went into the garden, and sat in the 
summer-house. Presently we looked out and saw two hands 
at the window. They drew it a little down, then vanished to 
the right, as if annoyed at our seeing them. After some time we 
looked again, and saw the backs of two hands on the outside 
of the window, but they did not move it. 


" We then went in, coming out again almost 
Headless 5 ! directly, and saw the window nearly closed ; then 
upstairs into the room ; and again I flung the 
window as wide open as it would go, and before leaving set 
the door open, with a heavy chair against it, but previous to 
this (I omitted to mention), as we were looking up at the 
window after the appearance of the hands, we saw a horrible 
object come from the right (the apparitions invariably did) : 
it resembled a large white bundle, called by Miss B., who 
had before seen it, ' The headless woman ' ; it came in front 
of the window, and then began walking backwards and for- 
wards. After the lapse of half an hour we went upstairs 
again, and found the chair by the window, and the door 
closed ; thereupon I wrote ' It ' a letter to this effect : Miss 
B. . . . and Mr. H. present their compliments to the 
Lady Headless and request her acceptance of this fruit from 
their garden ; they hope it will please, as she has often been 
seen admiring it. A reply will oblige, but the bearer does not 
wait for the answer. We put the chair once more against the 
door, placing the fruit and note on it ; two or three times we 
went up, but nothing was changed. 

"We then went and stood outside the summer 
^a Ghoft!° nouse > whence a clear view of the window could 
be obtained ; presently there came forward the 
headless figure, and distinctly bowed two or three times, then 
immediately afterwards a deafening slam of the door. The 
apex of this figure, which was rotund, i.e., that is neckless, 
once or twice dilated, and we feared seeing something, we 
knew not what ; it then vanished, and we saw a beautiful arm 
come from the curtain and wave to us. Upstairs again, the 
door was shut ; on entering we saw the chair overturned in 
the middle of the room, the fruit scattered in all directions, 
and to our horror the note, which I had folded crosswise, was 
charred at each corner. I took it up ; but lacked the courage 
to open, and perhaps find a possible reply. Placing it in a 
plate I burnt it. The process was a very slow one, and it dis- 
tilled a dark mucus. 

Holy Water "J u ty 6th. —At this period of my life I was a 
and the Roman Catholic, having had, inter a/ia, the 
Blble - efficacy of holy water duly impressed on me. 
Having procured some from the priest of the Mission, and 
promising to acquaint him with the result, I went to Brook 
House. We went up into the room (we found the window 
shut and hasped, which I opened). I then exorcised it. 


reciting the Lord's Prayer, and then sprinkling it with ' L'eaa 
SanteV Miss B. on her part placed more reliance on the 
Protestant Bible, which she placed on the table. July 10th. — ■ 
To Brook House in the afternoon, prevailed on Miss B. to take 
the Bible out of the room. It was now habitually kept there, 
and assuredly acted as a talisman in contradistinction to the 
' Aqua Sancta,' which proved of no efficacy whatever ; then 
into garden, found the window closed, reopened it, had tea, 
then heard a deafening noise from upstairs. L. came down 
dreadfully frightened ; she had been sitting in her room work- 
ing, when the other door slammed to, and she had heard the 
window rattling down ; into garden, and saw it was shut. 

"July 12th. — To Brook House in afternoon, up 
Bel ing! ng " Hlt0 tne room > an d removed the Bible ; whilst at 
tea three tremendous thuds as with a steam ham- 
mer resounded on the ceiling above our heads, followed by 
two slammings of a door in quick succession. N.B. — Door 
and window had both been closed. A few minutes after 
ensued some jangling sounds as if all the basement bells had 
been set dancing ; we found the three centre ones oscillating, 
those at each end were motionless, the three had communica- 
tion with the rooms on the first floor. We went upstairs, and 
I then put the door of the room wide open, setting a chair 
against it, placing another on the top of it, and went down 
again. In the course of a minute or two a loud crash was 
heard. We ran up and found both chairs lying on their sides, 
the door was not closed. At the first manifestation, during 
which the door and windows were closed, the big flower-stand 
was thrown down, and the chair on which the Bible rested 
when it remained in the room, was lying on its side. July 
1 8th. — To Brook House in afternoon, opened the window of 
the room, leaving the Bible, but nothing happened. July 
19th. — I took a friend, a Mr. S., to see the manifestations. 
Having removed the Bible, I threw up the window and placed 
a chair faceways to the large flower-stand in the window. 
Nothing occurred, however, so we left. I returned in the 
evening. Miss B. had been into the room, and found the 
chair removed a little to the right of the stand She was 
frightened and replaced the Bible. I went up ; the chair was 
in the position she had stated. 
a startling " The whimsical idea now possessed me to ar- 
Manifesta" range the room like a theatre ; the armchair and 
tlon ' others I placed facing the stand ; on them I laid 
antimacassars and books for programmes. We then went 


down to the end of the garden which commanded a view of 
the room, and looked : blank space, nothing more — stay ! a 
curious filmy vapour begins to float in the air, which slowly 
coheres, evolves vague phantasms ; they unite, and gradually 
assume a definable shape. The headless woman fronts us at 
the window, she vanishes, and an immense sheet is waved 
twice or thrice from the right side of the window, something is 
flung out, we walk quickly up the garden, and there under 
the window lies one of the books. What had hastened our 
steps was the frantic gesticulating of the servant ; she was 
frightened out of her senses by the peculiar sounds proceeding 
from the room, but could not describe them, but that there 
seemed to be a terrible hurrying to and fro, accompanied by 
strange noises. Even Mrs. B., recovering slowly from a second 
paralytic attack, had looked inquiringly upwards. We took 
the Bible and entered the room, which was in disorder : the 
flower-stand was thrown down, the two chairs widely apart, 
one of the antimacassars was tightly folded up under the re- 
cumbent towel-horse, the other with the towel were airing 
themselves on a gigantic tree some seven feet from the win- 

" J u ty 2is t- — To Brook House in the afternoon, 
shrimp" for up to the room, took ' it ' or ' them ' some tea in a 
the Ghost. h anc [less cup (which, I remarked, was the fashion 
of that period), and two small slices of bread and butter, into 
which L. stuck a pretty rose, half-opened ; I added some 
shrimps ; these were put in an old saucer, and the whole set 
on a small tray : it was placed in a recess of the window. I 
then put the stand at a right angle with the centre of the 
window, flanking it with a chair on either side; I placed a 
book on one and a small box on the other ; in the stand I 
deposited the Daily Telegraph, and a bunch of keys. We 
then left, removing the Bible, and shutting the door. Sud- 
denly we heard a tremendous smash on the gravel walk, close 
to our heads by the way. We were standing in the portico. 
What had been the saucer was now disintegration ; the tray lay 
adjacent, whilst the cup was half imbedded in some loose 
earth, but unbroken; the rest of the articles lay strewn 
around. We went up into the room : the armless chair was 
slightly moved, and my keys were on the floor, but that was 
all. Stay ! our eyes strayed to the bed, and we saw what 
certainly had not been there before — a great impression— as of 
some huge ' thing ' having sat or lain upon it, 


a Ghost "O 11 closer inspection, we distinctly saw the 
Breathing in coverlet gently moving, resembling the very feeble 
the Bed. reS pi ra tion of a body beneath. We, i.e. L. and 
myself, then returned to the garden, having thrown open the 
window. After waiting a long time we saw what looked like a 
hand appear to sit on the centre of the window-sill, then from 
the curtain came the white figure. It disappeared, then after 
a moment or two the hand also ; but there must have been a 
1 something ' besides crouching under the window, for it heaved 
upwards, and seemed to fill the window for an instant. It 
then sank, the hand vanished, and we saw no more. We 
waited a long time till I spoke of going. I had noticed as a 
curious thing that almost always, when I had wearied of look- 
ing, seeing nothing and about to leave, something was sure to 

The spectral " 0n this occasion there suddenly presented to 
Mother and our view the figure of a fine tall woman, walking 
child. majestically backwards and forwards, attired in 
crepe de chine. I saw the arms through their semi-transparent 
covering. I also noticed something white, as it seemed, 
hovering around her ; a child lay across her shoulder, and she 
gently caressed it with her hand ; they passed away. Then 
the white figure returned and distended its arms beneath its 
fearful drapery. Then, as ' it ' also went, we saw the right- 
hand curtain wrenched away ; I saw a hand in the act of 
drawing it away. Thinking we had seen enough for one day, 
we walked towards the house, and were about halfway when 
Miss B. came rushing to meet us (her eyes dilated with terror) 
and implored us to come in, as she was frightened out of her 
life by sounds overhead (the first floor), as of ponderous 
furniture being dragged about, and her mother had asked what 
it all meant. 

" I must here mention an incident or two I had 
^he°Doo C r k ? d forgotten. When we left the room the last time 
I had proposed turning the key, but was dissuaded. 
On our way upstairs we encountered an unexpected obstacle, 
to wit, the armchair : it was lying on the first floor landing, 
having been unceremoniously dropped over. On reaching the 
room I turned the handle of the door. It was locked ! and the 
key gone ! We fetched the one from the room opposite, 
which fitted, and entered ; the book lay open on its face, and 
the bottom drawer of a large wardrobe was wide open, the 
windows apparently as we had left them. The search for the 
missing key was a fruitless one j it was not on the ledge over 


the door, where, when last lost, it was found. I forgot also 
to mention that the first time we went down we shut the door, 
and on remounting found it open. 

11 July 23rd. — To Brook House in afternoon. 
and h the G D°oiis. L - fetched two big dolls that had belonged to Miss 
B. and her sister Rhoda. I placed them upright in 
the flower-stand, with the armchair behind, then left the room, 
not omitting the precaution of taking the key, thence to the 
garden L. and T. All at once we saw the dolls fall backwards, 
as if struck by lightning. On approaching the house, Miss B. 
came running to meet us, and in a voice of terror told us that 
whilst with her mother she had heard Fanny from outside the 
door. Before she had recovered her composure it was re- 
peated j it bore no resemblance to a natural voice, instead of 
an articulation. It seemed an uttered breath. It came a 
third time ; then Mrs. B. said slowly, ' It is beginning again.' 
We went upstairs (the Bible being on the balustrade) ; the door 
was locked ! I wondered vaguely whether with the missing 
key L. produced the duplicate one, and we entered. The 
dolls lay in the overthrown stand, and the armchair was also 
on its side. We put things straight and then left. As Miss 
B. and myself were sitting in the room later on, the Bible being 
outside, I saw the curtain detach itself, falling and enfolding 
her. That was sufficient for that day. 

"August 13th. — Miss B. told me that whilst 
° Fanny" 7 ' sitting alone this afternoon reading, she heard ' Oh, 
Fanny, Fanny ! ' Thinking it might have been her 
mother, she went upstairs, but found her asleep. She related 
how that about an hour after midnight, a tremendous knock at 
the front door resounded through the house ; of course there 
was no one there, the outside gate of the court being locked 
as usual. August 15th. — To Brook House in afternoon: up 
to room, Miss B., Miss A., a friend staying in the house, and 
myself. I sat with my back to the window, looking on to 
Frog Hill ; Miss A. in the armchair fronting window overlook- 
ing garden ; Miss B. sat on the bed. I took the Bible out- 

11 All at once we were startled by the sharp rap, 
Hair S Iinged. as °f tne knob of a stick, against the wooden 
panel at the foot of the bed. Then Miss B. lost 
her scissors, and after a time we saw them lying distended near 
the door — no one had left their seats — then she missed her 
cotton reel, this was not recovered; suddenly we smelt the 
unmistakable fumes of fire, and we saw distinctly that some 


of Miss B.'s hair had been singed away. We had not re- 
covered from this fright, when a tremendous knock at the 
door of the room, as with a heavy stick, startled us, followed 
by a sound as if it were falling down the stairs. I rushed out 
on to the landing, to the stairs, some fifty feet distant. I saw 
nothing, then the phantom voice again called ' Fanny ! ' I now 
fetched some apples, putting them in a box, and placing it in 
the stand with a note to the effect that I was sorry they were 
not ripe, but it was too early in the season, ending with 
kindest regards. We then went down and stood in the porch. 
Suddenly a rushing sound, as of something falling through the 
branches of the huge tree past our heads. We found the 
apples lying on the ground, and, on re-entering the room, 
were assailed again with a faint smell of burning. Near the 
bed I discovered the ashes of my note ; the box was on the 
window sill open. 

"August 18th. — To Brook House, and up into 

T Da?«s? t the room. Almost directly a sound as of heavy 
lumber rolling about in the attic overhead warned 
us that ■ activity ' had commenced, and the door of the room 
opposite closed with a terrific bang. After an interval, L. and 
I volunteered to go up and explore. We closed the door, and 
I had nearly gained the top step (L. was there already) when 
the clanging as of a heavy railway bell filled the air ; the others 
came rushing out ; we descended the stairs, went into the 
garden and stood against the railings at the end. The white 
figure appeared, bowed low, extending its arms still shrouded, 
then seizing a chair, tossed it out of the window. ' It ' next 
commenced dancing madly about the room, then slowly seated 
* itself in the armchair. 

11 We retraced our steps to the house, passing 

F o r f° sui^hun S tne cnair which lay on the lawn, up into the room. 
The armchair and stand were lying on their sides. 
Miss A. and myself then arranged to stay in the room, whilst 
the others went into the garden. They were to wave their 
handkerchiefs if they saw anything. I have omitted to mention 
that although I never saw anything intangible when in the 
room, yet I was always conscious when it was disturbed, by a 
sense of suffocation, caused by a peculiar denseness which 
suffused the chamber and seemed to pervade everything. On 
this occasion I became aware, from the usual symptoms, that 
! something ' was breathing the same air with ourselves. Al- 
mostly directly we saw Miss B.'s handkerchief waving, and she 
rushed on to the lawn, imploring me to come down, if I wished 


to escape serious injury. When we had descended, she told 
us she had seen a vivid flame poised or hovering over my head, 
and between us she distinguished, though indistinctly, as it was 
more in the background, the headless lady. We essayed a 
farther instance, but this time L. remained with me ; the same 
phenomena were presented. 

" This ends my personal experiences. My health became im- 
paired, and for upwards of two years I was invalided, but as 
time wore on and the impressions waned, I gradually recovered. 
I often wander back in imagination to the many mysteries 
that in the ' long ago' held sway at Brook House. 

" I will relate one curious episode (as it was 
um. tQ ^ tQ me ^ - n t ^- g account f t | ie < Haunters and 

the Haunted.' Some years before (in Captain B.'s time), he 
being at home on furlough, a child was staying in the house, 
about eight years of age. One morning the captain was in 
his room, when a tap was heard at the door, and on opening, 
it admitted the scared figure of the boy ; seeing something 
was wrong, he asked what it was. It appeared the child had 
wandered down into the breakfast room on the basement, 
when from behind the door, a boy, seemingly of the same age, 
had suddenly emerged, and apparently wanted to play with 
him. Disguising with discretion his surprise, the captain 
inquired, ' Well, why would you not play with him ? ' to which 
the child answered, 'I was frightened, he was so very 

The extraordinary nature of this narrative led 

ever^Wordi'" mc to WYl ^ Q to ^ r< Hastings and ask him whether 

he could produce any confirmatory evidence of 

the statements which he made. He wrote in reply October 

28th :— 

"I have not drawn on my imaginative faculty in the slightest 
degree. There was no necessity for doing so. I vouch for 
the truthful reality of each and every occurrence as set down 
in my MS., wherever it professes to be my personal experience, 
but even the instance or two which I received at first hand I 
have no hesitation in accepting, having known (names in con- 
fidence) the B.'s for many years. Mrs. B. is dead ; her 
daughter married one of the N.'s of Jersey. Verification ! 
Facts are stubborn things, and my narrative bristles with them. 
Alas ! there are more St. Thomases than believers in the 
world, I am afraid. ' Unless I shall see ... I will not 
believe.' Faith is not credulity. I send you an extract from 
the diary of the year in question, as far as it relates to the 


subject in hand. The late Mr. Gurney, as I think I told 
you, asked me to draw out this relation (presumably for the 
Society), but I have always 'shirked 'it, and I ejaculated a 
prayer of thankfulness as the last line was penned prior to the 
day of my forwarding it to you. 
t, . . " There was a curious episode one evening at 

explosions itt 1 • 1 t ■ 1 i -I 1 

and Brook House, which I omitted to chronicle at the 
Rumblings. t i mej an( j consequently forgot to embrace in my 
description. One evening at supper, the day had been over- 
cast and lowering, and the gloomy clouds which had long 
been hanging threateningly over our heads, at last had given 
way, emitting jagged and blinding flashes, followed in quick 
succession by deafening thunderclaps, resembling the dis- 
charges from heavy artillery ; an avalanche of rain had then 
succeeded. Such days were always pregnant with mischief 
at Brook House. t The tenants ' seem to revel in the dis- 
organisation of nature, and some mad freak was sure to 
happen to express their approval. On the evening in question 
the storm had lulled, and we had supped. I rose from my 
seat, took one step forward, and the sound as of a match 
exploding was heard. We had hardly recovered from our 
bewilderment, when another report took place, and then 
another, and yet another, came in quick succession. We 
were by this time considerably disturbed, and lost no time in 
considerately leaving the room to its ' would-be possessors.' 
One Sunday I met Mr. B., the uncle of Miss B., at dinner; 
he had come over from Sandwich, where he resided. Between 
the courses and some desultory conversation, a sound as of 
heavy shot falling and rolling was heard overhead. It was 
simply appalling in its vibratory action, and it gradually ceased 
with a slow sullen murmur. Now, had it been natural, we 
must have been impacted then and there, and flattened out 
amidst the ruins of our surroundings. Mr. B. was the first to 
regain the power of speech. ' Good God, Fanny, what was 
that V An explanation was forthcoming, but it was a lame one, 
and I assisted Miss B. in diverting the conversation into a 
safer channel. But Mr. B. was not altogether to be thwarted. 
Some time after, 'That noise at dinner, Fanny, reminds me 
of some inexplicable sounds that disturbed me during the 
night, when I stayed here last summer. I slept, if you re- 
member (for one night only), in such a room (naming the one 
in question) ; but that I knew it was nothing of the sort, I 
could have sworn it was ' haunted.' " Seeing we were in for it, 
I begged him to go on. 


"It appeared that he could not sleep, yet he was 
traT s e ong of naturally a sound sleeper ; some vague, indefinable 
the story of f ee ii n cr kept him awake; the sensation gradually 

the House. , o i t o J 

became stronger ; it was fear, it intensified, a 
horror sprang to life within him, it fought for the mastery 
and subdued him, quenching probability and reason together. 
He was not alone ! There was a ' Presence,' of what nature 
he knew not, but it was surely there ; it seemed to enter and 
fill his very being, pervading his senses and permeating the 
nerve tissues of the body. He was voiceless, he was powerless, 
an agonised mind in a paralysed frame. How long this lasted 
he knew not ; then the strain seemed somewhat lifted, and a 
fresh impression awaited him. The sound as of a woman's 
voice, wailing quietly, but with unutterable sorrow, came sigh- 
ing to his ear. He listened acutely, and words unspoken, borne 
on the drowsy air, seemed to whisper their reflected meaning 
to his senses. They died away, and faint sounds as of ' far 
away ' music, most mournful and soul-saddening, appealed to 
him. They sang, or seemed to sing, the ' Story of the House.' 
The yEolian strains rose higher, as if the long-drawn-out and 
pent-up agony of years would burst its bonds. Then, as if 
constrained by the Master Hand, they faltered, sobbed, then 
ceased. Nature thereupon reasserted her sway, and when he 
awoke it was bright morning. Uo not call this a whimsical 
rhapsody. I have simply endeavoured to delineate the im- 
pressions as they were conveyed to me. Yet one or two last 
instances. One afternoon I went into the room, and was 
surprised to see the number of bees on the window looking 
over Frog Hill. An hour or two later I re-entered — they 
were all dead. A flower-stand figures in this history : formerly 
it held flowers in pots. One day a 'baleful breath' swept 
over them, poisoning their life's source ; it blighted and 
destroyed them ; it had gone, leaving a tainted odour, which 
clung to their disfigured petals. 

" When Miss B. was asked by some friends how they liked 
their new house, she had replied, ' Oh, very much, but we do 
seem to hear the footsteps on the hill so plainly.' 

" Some years after they (the B.'s) had gone, I, curious to 
hear the subsequent history (if any) of the house, called on 
the new people and made guarded inquiries. They were not 
imaginative people, and the house suited them, but there was 
one peculiarity not quite agreeable that puzzled them, the 
sound of a footfall that seemed to 'drop' beside them. Crefitu 
modo pedis audito, 


" I find on examination of my diary, that these experiences 
and my private concerns are so interwoven that I must ask 
you to be contented with a specimen page of the year in 

some " ^ ne a ft ernoon > ^ ss B. turned the handle of 

additional the drawing-room door and essayed to enter. No ! 

Details. Was it i oc k e( i? Certainly not. Did it give at 
all ? No ! Another push, and yet another, with the same 
result. Aid was invoked ; but it was insufficient. Additional 
help was forthcoming, swelling the attacking party to three in 
number. Suddenly, yet quickty, the door yielded, or rather 
collapsed, precipitating them into the room, and a ■ Laugh ' 
yawned in the air ; but they had already fled in confusion. 

"For this next instant, I hardly expect credence — still it 
is true ! While sitting and conversing one afternoon, a 
'peculiar' sound was heard outside. Opening the door, a 
' phenomenon ' (or what shall I term it ?) was revealed. A 
1 pounce box ' leisurely descending the stairs. 

"Lastly, one night, William B. went up to his room at 
11.30 p.m., when he recollected having left his watch on the 
mantel downstairs. 

"He returned; but as he went by the half-opened door, to 
his amazement, there, in the armchair drawn to the fire (he 
had replaced it before leaving against the wall), and gazing 
intently or vacantly — which ? — at the smouldering embers, sat 
his dead sister Rhoda, or rather her 'appearance.' Pulling 
himself together he passed the door, and entered. ■ It ' had 
gone, but the chair witnessed to what he had seen. He then 
remembered that it was the anniversary of her death." 
Two other ^ X ' Hastings sends us the following notes 

Haunted concerning two other haunted houses known to 

Houses - him :— 

" Copley House, erected probably about the 

House. same P er i°d as Brook House, resembled it to 
some extent in outward appearance, the court and 
walled gardens excepted. As long as I could remember any- 
thing, it had a fascination for me on account of a tradition 
respecting it. This (affecting me nearly as a descendant) 
related how that in a certain year, when the reign of George 
III. had slipped a decade, an ancestress, while sitting in a 
room overlooking the street, suddenly saw a 'something.' 
The moment after, leaping from the window, she was outside. 
I now take up the thread in our own times. In 1871 I was 
staying in the town and occasionally met the ancient lady 



that lived alone in this large house, with her servant ; she was 
always attired the same — a dress of amber satin and a ' poke ■ 
bonnet. I never passed the house but I looked up to one of 
the topmost windows, where, on the sill, always in the same 
position, and apparently never touched from year to year, 
stood some childish toys — a wooden horse and a yellow 
canary. I used to wonder what sort of a child he was that had 
once played with them, and my mind pictured strange fancies, 
tinged with a sadness. I was with the solitary boy, and I 
tried to interest myself in his lonely play, which never varied 
in its sad monotony j a childish quarrel, or less, a difference, 
would have been welcomed, suggesting, as it would have done, 
a companion, but the dreary days came and went and he was 
still alone. At length a day came when they were untouched. 
He was dead ! the toys — they remained. Rumour, ' painted 
full of tongues,' affirmed that the tenant of Copley House held 
it in ■ seizin ' by a curious wording in the deed ; as long as 
the child was above ground, so it ran — therefore report had it 
that he was l kept ' in that room. This by the way : one 
afternoon in this year 1871 I called on some friends who were 

full of news respecting Copley House. Dr. had been 

called in. It appeared that on the afternoon of Sunday, her 
mistress being at church, the servant was reading in a room 
on the ground floor, when, suddenly, without a warning note, 
there rose an uproar, which increased to such a pitch that 
'pandemonium' itself appeared to have risen and established 
itself here. This babel of sounds was all in a moment 
tinctured with hellish laughter, then a rush as for dear life 
raced up the stairs, followed immediately by a headlong de- 
scent. The door of the room fell or was flung open, showing 
two heads, the one topping the other, contorted with an 
horrific expression, and each appealing in its malignity. The 
girl fell from one fit into another, in which condition she was 
found, and the doctor feared for both life and reason." 

"This, unlike Copley House (altered almost 
Angle House. b eyon( i recognition), still retains, I believe, its 
old-time look ; but even when I knew it early in the seventies, 
it had already lost its high estate, and showed ' apartments to 
let.' This surely in all conscience was matter of fact enough, 
but yet there were ' whispers ! ' I do not think they became 
much more ; it would have injured the letting of the house, 
and this the tenants and owners in one could not afford, but 
they seemed to have a coherence which claimed a hearing, 
and I heard ' one of them,' a lodger, coming down to break- 


fast, complain of an unwarrantable intrusion into his room 
early that morning. When he awoke he was staggered at 
beholding ' an old woman ' apparently bending over a drawer 
in a chest which she had opened. One of my relatives having 

a lot of young people came down to at this time, and 

took rooms at Angle House. Late one evening after supper 
I rose to go \ I had my back to the fireplace fronting the 
door, the table being between. We were cramped for space, 
the room being a small one of awkward shape, and many of 
us. However, some one opened it (the door), when I was 
chilled, or, vulgarly speaking, ' struck all of a heap,' at seeing 
an ' old woman ' in a great shovel-bonnet which shrouded her 
features, bending across, as it appeared, in the act of listening. 
As I looked — it was but an instant — she had vanished. I 
then called to mind the { whisperings/ " 



IT would be difficult to find a better story of a haunting 
ghost than that which relates to the family of the Wesleys 
at Epworth Parsonage. Both as to phenomena and evidence, 
the story is nearly all that a ghost story ought to be. If any- 
thing is wanting it is some indisputable, explanatory coinci- 
dence, although of theories, more or less plausible, we have 
enough and to spare. If only the Wesley family could have 
filled up one of the census papers circulated with " Real Ghost 
Stories," what excitement would have been caused to the 
Society for Psychical Research ! Their experiences were 
visual, audible, sensitive ; they had opportunities for observing 
psychical movement — their evidence was collective, indepen- 
dent, contemporary, What could Mr. Innes or Mr. Ernest 
Hart themselves want more ? 

The whole story was published by the Rev. 
Epworth John Wesley, in the Arminian Magazine for 
Ghost. October, November, December, 1784, sixty-eight 
years after date, by which time the story was what the S.P.R. 
would call " remote," and though as the best known represen- 
tative of his family his account has a special interest, yet we 
are glad to have it confirmed by various letters, written while 
the phenomena was in progress. 

The first of these is from Mrs. Wesley to her 
Th D?but. tS son Samuel, in London (January 12th, 17 16-17), 
expressing great pleasure at hearing from him, as 
certain recent occurrences had made her anxious as to distant 
friends. " We have various conjectures what these may mean," 
she writes. " For my own part I fear nothing now you are 
safe at London hitherto, though sometimes I am inclined to 
think my brother is dead." Mr. and Mrs. Wesley seem to 
have been open-minded upon the question, and to have looked 
at it from all sides, though — till he himself was favoured with 
a visitation — the vicar was, like other people limited to their 
own experience, inclined to pooh-pooh the whole thing. But 


when he himself heard knockings nine times just by his bed, 
and afterwards heard, as did the whole household, noises u like 
the winding up of a jack . . . like a carpenter plaining 
(sic) boards," he was at last moved to speech and asked the 
ghost, " if it were Sammy, to knock again," after which it was 
for that occasion silent. 

Sammy apparently did not think much of the story, and 
suggested tricks, cats, rats, and dogs as possible explanations. 
11 Wit, I fancy, might find many interpretations — wisdom, 
none " — is his conclusion. Acting on this suggestion, Mrs. 
Wesley has a horn blown all over the house to scare away rats, 
or even — a still more remote possibility — weasels. This has 
no effect, and the ghost appears to be gathering force, for 
on January 25th Mrs. Wesley describes a new phenomenon. 

The ghost has taken to coming to family prayers, 

Comes to and the good lady, utterly disconcerted, declines 

Prayers, conjecture and observes enigmatically, " Secret 
things belong to God." 

Miss Susannah Wesley is more explicit, and relates details 
which point to the presence of a disembodied Jacobite, who 
remonstrates with violent knockings at the words " Our most 
Gracious Sovereign Lord," when applied to King George I 
She adds that from the first to the last of a lunar month the 
noises have continued — groans, squeaks, tinglings, knockings, 
and " my father's particular knock, very fierce." 

She then carries the mystery a step further, 
and is n P amed. " To conclude this, it now makes its personal 
appearance, but of this more hereafter." This 
must have been rather tantalising for Samuel, and the reader 
shall not be made to share his impatience. We learn from a 
subsequent letter that "Something has been thrice seen." 
Mrs. Wesley saw it, " like a badger." The man-servant also 
saw the same animal " sat by the dining-room fire," but when 
he chased it into the kitchen it was like a white rabbit, 
"which," says Emily Wesley, who takes up the tale at this 
point, " seems likely to be some witch." Emily was specially 
anxious to have the mystery explained, because at an early 
stage her father had suggested " lovers," which she says " made 
me desirous of its continuance." She it was who gave it a 
name — Jeffrey. 

J. W. Wesley seems to have relegated the lover hypothesis 
to the oblivion shared by the rats and weasels, and speaks of 
the phenomena with absolute certainty. " I have been thrice 
pushed by an invisible power," he writes. " I have followed 


the noise into almost every room in the house, both by day 
and night, with lights and without, and have sat alone for 
some time, and when I heard the noise, spoke to it to tell me 
what it was, but never heard any articulate voice, and only 
once or twice two or three feeble squeaks a little louder than 
the chirping of a bird, but not like the noise of rats, which I 
have often heard." 

Susannah tells us that when her father first dis- 
PoiiUcal covered that Jeffrey objected to the State prayers, 
Opinions, j^ d ec jd e d for the future to have three collects 
instead of two, which showed that he had not only courage, 
but the courage of his political convictions. One Friday night 
when they had attended service in church the family devotions 
were shortened by the omission of the " Prayer for the Royal 
Family," and no knocking occurred, which Mr. Wesley con- 
sidered good evidence. "Always at the name of the king it 
began to knock, and did the same when I prayed for the 
Prince. This was heard by ten persons." 

Samuel's comment upon this is worth record- 

W ThoSght? el * n s : — " As t0 the devil bem & an enem y of Kin g 

George, were I the king myself I should rather 
old Nick should be my enemy than my friend." 

Samuel is always practical, and writes with an absence of 

passion for which his distance from the scene may account. 

Alluding to a story told by his mother, he asks, " Have you 

dug in the place where the money seemed poured at your feet ? " 

To disarm possible criticism on the point it is 

T Ei e e ?uvfty S on ty f an " t0 mentlon tnat we nave evidence out- 
side the Wesley family of the existence of their 
lad. A Mr. Hoole, the Vicar of Haxby, described by John 
Wesley as an eminently pious and sensible man, gives us his 
evidence at some length, agreeing in every particular with that 
of Mr. and Mrs. Wesley, Susannah and Emily, as does that 
also of the household servants. Hetty, another sister, is 
reported to have been the ghost's personal favourite, but she 
has left us no independent account. For some time the 
nursery was the place of his liking, but when Mr. Wesley 
called him a dumb and deaf spirit, and accused him of 
frightening innocent children, instead of behaving like a man 
— Jeffrey took to the vicar's study, which, on the whole, served 
him right. To Mrs. Wesley he was more courteous. On 
being informed that she specially desired quiet between five 
and six he was always silent at that hour. It is worth noticing, 
as further evidence of that electivity so familiar to the student 


of ghost literature, that " John and Kitty Maw, who lived over 
against us, listened several nights in the time of the disturbance, 
but could never hear anything." 

As usual, we find — even on such delicate, not 
Ffmmlrity. t0 sa y spiritual, ground— that familiarity breeds 
' contempt. By February nth we find Mr. Wesley 
saying, " All quiet now " — an assumption which proved to be 
premature — and adding with an interesting prescience of 
"More Ghost Stories," "It would make a glorious penny 
book ! " 

The ladies of the family began to get bored. On March 
27th Susannah complains, " We are secluded from the sight 
or hearing of anything, except Jeffrey." And about the same 
date Mrs. Wesley exclaims piteously, "I am quite tired with 
hearing or speaking of it." 

Among the Wesley correspondence communi- 

PredSssors cated b y tne Rev - S - Badcock > and edited in 1 791 
'by Joseph Priestley, we find a rather interesting 
u Memorandum of Jack's," from which we gather that five 
months of Jeffrey's presence was not the only supernatural 
experience of the Wesley family. He says : " The first time 
my mother ever heard an unusual noise at Epworth was long 
before the disturbances of old Jeffrey. My brother, lately 
come from London, had in the evening a sharp quarrel with 
my sister Sukey." Then followed knockings, "doors and 
windows rung and jarred," and these phenomena were repro- 
duced in all times of family excitement and before death, 
which accounts for Mrs. Wesley's anticipation of misfortune 
to Samuel. 

Jack— whom it is at first not easy to identify 
J ExpiSon'. s witn the saintly and truly Reverend John Wesley 
— had a theory of his own as to the Jeffrey dis- 
turbances : — 

11 As both my father and mother are now at rest and incap- 
able of being pained thereby (he writes in the Arminian Maga- 
zine), I think it my duty to furnish the serious reader with a 
key to this circumstance. The year before King William died, 
my father observed my mother did not say Amen to the prayer 
for the King. She said she could not, for she did not believe 
the Prince of Orange was King. He vowed he would never 
cohabit with her till she did. He then took his horse and 
rode away, nor did she hear anything of him for a twelve- 
month. He then came back and lived with her as before, but 
I fear his vow was not forgotten before God." 


a North of ^he on ty drawback to the Epworth Ghost is 
England that it dates from last century. The following 
Haunting. stQY ^ Q f anot h er haunted parsonage is quite recent, 
the event described having occurred only last year. 

Mr. C. W. Dymond, F.S.A., dating from 3, Forefield Place, 
Lyncombe Hill, Bath, writes me as follows : — 

" I am glad to be able to send you the account (received 
only this morning) of the haunting at a parsonage in the north 
of England. 

" Perhaps you will kindly return it to me when done with, 
as I believe the gentleman who handed it to me wishes to 
have it again. The haunted family are friends of his 

"The following occurrences took place during the week 
commencing Monday, January 5th, 1891, when a clergyman, 
his wife, and another lady, whom we will call respectively 
A., B., and C, were living in a retired country house in the 
north of England. The servant had left a day or two pre- 
viously, and her successor had not yet come ; the lady whom 
we call C. had arrived on a visit about eleven o'clock on the 
morning of Monday. 

u Soon after dinner on that day, in the early 
The ^g S Be11 dusk of a winter's afternoon, a bell was sharply 
rung in the house, and one of the ladies, thinking 
it was a visitor, went to the front door. There was no one 
there. Somewhat startled, she at once examined the bells 
(which are hung about ten feet from the ground close to the 
hall door in a passage leading to the kitchen), and said that 
the one still vibrating was not the front door bell at all, but 
one connected with the servants' bedroom, in which no person 
had been that day. However, the ringing was put down to 
mice, and was not thought much about that evening. But on 
the next night, Tuesday, from about seven o'clock to ten, 
nearly all the bells in the house rang at very frequent intervals 
in violent peals and clashings with a force that neither rats nor 
mice could exert ; and the wires were heard clanging and seen 
moving as if violently pulled. On Wednesday morning a bed- 
room bell was rung loudly as early as seven o'clock, and all the 
rest rang at intervals throughout the day. 

" Between four and five in the afternoon the 

< Mufflld. s rm S s became much more frequent, and it was then 

decided to muffle the bells. This was done, the 

front door bell alone being left free, as it was thought very 

undesirable that these curious proceedings should become 


known in the village. After this the unmuffled bell was con- 
stantly rung, and the dull thud of the muffled clappers was also 
heard. It was then suggested by one of the party that the 
rings might be produced in some way by electrical action, and 
accordingly some of the wires were cut close, a few only being 
allowed to remain. The uncut wires were pulled, if anything 
more vigorously than before, and on going into the drawing- 
room, which had not been used for a day or two, whose bell 
had been peculiarly active, the bell tassel was found wrenched 
off and lying in the middle of the floor ! 
Knockin " Next day, Thursday, the bells were constantly 

sounding, and, in addition, knocks of all sorts were 
heard every few minutes by all three inmates of the house. 
For the most part they were sharp, quick knocks, such as 
would be caused by the rapping of knuckles on a door ; but 
sometimes they were loud and violent thuds, such as might be 
made by a heavy piece of timber directed with some force 
against the main beams of the house. As evening drew on, 
more startling phenomena began. 

" The house was lighted by small oil lamps, hung 
La out Put or stancu ng m various places, and it now became 

exceedingly difficult to keep these lamps alight. 
They -were in no draught, oil was abundant, wicks perfect, but 
they went out every few minutes, and on going to them it was 
discovered that the screw of the wick had been turned down ! 
No human hand had been near them. A., the clergyman, was 
appointed custodian of the lamps, and for two hours or more 
he was mainly occupied in going through the house, re-lighting 
the lamps when out, and rescuing them when on the point of 
extinction. All this time the bells and knocks continued as 

"Next morning, Friday, the bells began as 
A L f£ ghing before and, with the knockings, continued at very 

frequent intervals during the day. On this after- 
noon there happened, if possible, a greater wonder than ever. 
A. was downstairs in the dining-room, B. and C. upstairs in 
one of the bedrooms, when B. and C. heard a slight 'click' 
as of metal clashing against tin. On going into the adjoining 
bedroom it was found that a pair of trousers had been re- 
moved from a chair and dashed into a bath of w r ater in the 
middle of the room ; the ' click ' being evidently caused by 
one of the buttons dashing against the metal bath. A. heard 
a peal of laughter, which was quite refreshing, and on going 
upstairs learned the cause. This incident w r as quite reassuring. 


The party had been slightly alarmed by what had been occur- 
ring, but this affair of the trousers looked like the act of a 
naughty young imp who had sufficient sense of humour to 
appreciate a practical joke, and a sort of fellow-feeling seemed 
to be established. About the same time as before, between 
four and five in the evening, the bells sounded more frequently, 
and the lamps on being lighted were turned out again and 
again. In order to keep them lighted A. found it again ne- 
cessary for two hours or more to act as peripatetic lamplighter, 
spending nearly all this time in going from lamp to lamp in a 
sort of race with these curious sprites. This evening wonder 
after wonder occurred. 

" A closet door, though locked again and again, 
uSockld. tne key being left in, was again and again thrown 
half open, as wide as a movable shelf would allow, 
no one being near it. Once during this time, B., the clergy- 
man's wife, said in an emphatic tone, as she again locked the 
door, * You shall keep shut ! ' and on the instant there was the 
clashing of a bell so violently as to startle all three. Now 
there came a fresh marvel. The front door had been fastened 
by means of a latch and a chain slipping in a groove. Again 
and again, when no human hand was near, the latch was 
raised, the chain was slipped along to the end of the groove 
so as to release it, and the door was opened about five or six 
inches. A. thinks he once saw the chain moving along ; at 
any rate, he caught it in the nick of time, just as it was on the 
point of setting the door free. Thus this evening there were 
the bells, the knocks, the turned-down lamps, the closet, and 
front doors opened ; these occurring at no regular intervals, 
but altogether making, perhaps, not less than fifty marvels in 
the course of a few hours. Whilst these were going on another 
phenomenon occurred. A., B., and C. were all in another 
part of the house, and all heard a strange, dull thud, which 
they could not account for, but on going into the back kitchen 
it was found that a wooden bar, which is used to bar the 
shutters, fitting in a square staple and fastener, had been 
taken out and thrown on the kitchen floor three yards off! 
After this there were the usual accompaniments of bells, 
knocks, etc., and though the three inmates of the house had 
fairly good nerves, and were not easily frightened, they were 
beginning to wish that they might be left alone. Once during 
this evening the closet door was opened almost before their 
very eyes, when all three were close to it, but no one touch- 
ing it. 


„_ .. "A. dashed the door wide open, and rinding, as 

"Depart in , . . . . r '. ,. . °' 

the Name of was expected, no one inside, he fell on his knees, 
chnst!" t k e others following his example, and in a loud 
voice prayed, or rather commanded, all spirits in the name of 
Jesus Christ to depart. It may have been excited nerves, but 
they had an impression that other beings were within hearing, 
and that they recognised a power whose commands they must 
obey. A., B., and C. also believe that from that time the 
visitations became both less frequent and less violent. It 
became necessary for two of the party to go out that night into 
the back-yard, and as they crossed it, a loud crash was heard ; 
something was thrown from the roof as if hurled at them. On 
making an examination it was found that a stone blacking- 
bottle had been violently hurled against a wall with such force 
as to break it into a score pieces ! It is their impression 
that this was thrown at their heads, but fortunately missed 
them. Bedtime came, and, as on previous evenings, no sound 
reached them at night, a parting bell perhaps sounding as they 
passed to go upstairs. These phenomena continued at intervals 
on Saturday, but no fresh wonders were observed, and those 
that took place became less frequent. On coming from church 
on Sunday evening one of the lamps was observed to be 
strangely swinging, and there was a very strong smell of oil in 
the room, but both these were mere trifles. Sunday evening 
was comparatively quiet; bells, knocks, lamps and doors, though 
occasionally manifesting, were, on the whole, approaching their 
normal state. On Monday morning early there were a few 
bells, and bells and a knock or two during the day. On Monday 
evening they began slightly and for a short time, the last bell 
being heard as the knock of a new servant at the back door 
announced that she had arrived. 

" Since that time some of them have a few times heard a 
bell, and occasionally things not readily explained take place. 
But these are trifling and may admit of explanation. 

"All three of those concerned, A., B., and C, 
witnesses, are fairly sensible and clear-headed, honest and 
veracious. Collusion or conspiracy, or any known 
human agency causing these wonders, is out of the question. 
Notes were made by B. in a small diary of the occurrences, and 
that diary still exists. All three also are prepared to verify, if 
necessary, these statements upon oath, and to submit to 
separate cross-examination. There might be slight discrep- 
ancies in their statements as to the exact order of the events 
narrated, but concerning the main facts there can be no 


question. Other matters, it may be remarked, went on during 
that time just as they were wont — the world seemed turned 
upside down, and all notion of natural laws with unvarying 
operation cast to the winds, but only as respects these phenomena 
— and in all other matters the brains of A., B., and C. found 
the world just as other people find it. There was, of course, 
intercourse with the outside world during that time, visits were 
made, and a few neighbours called. 

"It should be remarked that once, about fifteen months 
before, a bell was heard by A. and B. when they only were 
in the house ; this bell was the same that first rang on the 
Monday evening. 

" A copy of the diary is appended — this is the best authority 
as to the precise order of the occurrences. 

" Copy Diary. 

31 Days. January. 

'C came. 'A.' drove her from station — one 

bell rang. 
1 A.' went to tea at many bells rang — ' A.'s ' 

{ A.' cut bell wires — still they rang. 
Knocks at several doors — lamps went out. 
Bells, knocks, ' A.'s ' trousers thrown in bath. 

Street room door opened. Lamps went out. 

L. called about place. Cupboard under 

stairs opened several times. 
All wires continued. 
Dg. window opened — all others continued till 

evening when abated. 
Only bells — the last about 4 o'clock. L. came. 

1 C went on the hills. 
1 C went away. ' A.' drove her to ." 






















MR. E. D. WALKER, formerly mayor of Darlington, the 
W. H. Smith & Son of the Stockton & Darlington 
Railway, contributes to the Northern Echo the following narra- 
tive of a ghost that haunted his own home when he was a 
child. His father was a coastguardsman who married a 
farmer's daughter in Sussex, and subsequently was appointed 
to the little village of Goldsborough, five miles north of Whitby. 
Mr. Walker writes : — 

11 When we reached this place it was found that there was 
no house of any kind available as a habitation for us, but after 
making numerous inquiries we found shelter in the wing of a 
farm-house which for some time previously had been un- 

a Haunted " ^ e na( * not Deen in this particular house more 
House near than about a month, when one night my father — 
11 y " coming in, as was his nightly custom, between eleven 
and one o'clock, as his rounds permitted — was sitting in the little 
kitchen, and was about to take from the oven his coffee and 
toast for supper, when, just as he was reaching to the oven, the 
fender upon which one of his feet was resting lifted up from 
the hearthstone three times and fell again with a loud bang. 
Concurrently with this action on the part of the fender, one- 
half of a double-doored long closet opened three times also and 
slammed to again, louder, my father always said, than he could 
have done it himself. Mother, who was sleeping in a room on 
the same level, called out to father, ' James, what is that ? ' 
He replied, ' Betsy, I don't know ; it's very strange.' How- 
ever, they heard no more that night, and father finished his 
coffee and had his pipe, and went out again. He came in in 
the morning, and said to his wife, ' That was a very strange 
thing last night, Betsy.' She rejoined : ( It was ; it is very 
strange. What could it be ? ' He said : ' I don't think it 
meant anything,' and then, * Did James [my eldest brother] 
hear it?' Mother replied, 'Yes he did.' That made my 



father think it still more strange, but nothing further was said, 
and for many nights he went about his business as usual. 
The Lifting " About a month afterwards, however, when he 
of Beds and was out one night, and about half an hour before 
Pistol shots. t ^ e t - me k e g enera }i v cam e in, my mother, who 

was lying in bed asleep with me in her arms, felt the bed lifted 
three times and banged down again with a loud noise. Simul- 
taneously with the bed lifting there were three distinct and very 
loud sounds of pistol shots fired over the bed. My mother 
screamed out, as also did my brother James upstairs, and she 
then lay in bed almost paralysed with fear, praying, as she said 
she never prayed before, for father to come in. When he 
came she told him and said, ' I dare not stay in the house ; 
you must see and get out of it as soon as possible,' and he 
replied, ' I will do so.' After she had told him this, and while 
he was sitting having his pipe, he heard, and she also heard 
distinctly, outside the window, what seemed to them like two 
dogs in deadly combat, fighting and tearing each other to 
pieces. Father said, 'Do you hear that?' She said, 'Yes/ 
and then he also began to get a little scared. He got his cutlass 
and went to the front door, but could see nothing ; and he 
made up his mind then that he would inquire about the 
matter, having up to this time kept his own counsel. A Mrs. 
Bewick, a widow, who was living in the other portion of the 
farmhouse, told him that the last people who had lived there 
said there was something wrong about the house, but she 
personally knew nothing, although only separated by a wall. 
Within a week or two of this father was down on the sands 
one day with mother (I was just able to walk), and were 
making their way from the top of the cliff, when they met Lord 
and Lady Normanby, on their way to the Lady's Walk, where 
there was a beautiful grotto in which they used to sit. Father 
raised his hat to the Marquis of Normanby, who said, ' I 
suppose you are the new coastguardsman ? ' He said, ' Yes, 
my lord,' and told him his name. The Marquis said, ' Have 
you got a comfortable house ? ' and he then told his lordship 
briefly this story. His lordship said, ' I have heard something 
about that before. It is very strange that there is anything in 
it,' and father repeated the story. The Marquis then said, 
' You shall not stay there any longer than it is possible to pro- 
vide you with some other place. I will get my steward to at 
once put a cottage in the village in order for you.' In a little 
time after this my father got into the cottage which the 
Marquis speedily had made ready for him. But meanwhile, 


after father had spoken to the Marquis, and while the cottage 
was being prepared, it was found necessary by the owners of 
the farmhouse, on father's representation, to bring a joiner in 
from Whitby to make some repairs in an upstairs bed-room. 

" My brother James, then twelve years of age, 
Figure was upstairs with him, and whilst the man was busy 
D wh!te in at ^ e wm< 3ow — he knowing nothing, and having 
no suspicion of the building — all at once a male 
figure, draped in white, appeared, coming apparently from no- 
where, crossed the room, and vanished. The joiner, affrighted, 
threw his tools down and rushed downstairs, followed by the 
boy James, who was screaming at the top of his voice. Father 
was downstairs, and the joiner told him what they had seen. 
Nothing could induce him to go and fetch his tools, and ulti- 
mately my father had to go for them. We lived in the house 
in the village for some years, and then my father was promoted 
again, and sent to Coatham, near Redcar. After we had been 
there a few years, and I had grown up to be thirteen years of 
age, my father, on the invitation of a Mr. Watson — who farmed 
the principal farm on the estate of the Marquis of Normanby, 
near Goldsborough — again visited the neighbourhood, and 
took me with him. Amongst other subjects that naturally 
came up in conversation between them was the question of the 
haunted farmhouse. My father asked, ■ Did those who went 
into the house after us have any similar experiences to what 
we had ? ' Mr. Watson replied, ' I am glad, James, that you 
have named that. A few years after you left, Mrs. Bewick, 
who had the other part of the house, died, and the house was 
repaired and done up and let in its entirety to another man. 
- -j. "' Before he entered into possession the new 

The Skeleton , . , . * , ... . 

under the tenant had the interior very much modernised, and 
Hearthstone. amongst otner things the flagged floor in the 
kitchen was taken up, and of course the hearthstone along 
with it, and under the hearthstone was found a human 

" Now my father was a man who would be one of the least 
likely to imagine anything of the kind. He had been the 
first in time of need to man the lifeboat, no matter how great 
the peril, and his occupation being principally carried on at 
night made him know no fear. During that terrible and 
never-to-be-forgotten Whitsuntide storm which strewed the 
entire north-east coast with wrecks, and sent scores and 
hundreds of poor sailors to a restless ocean grave, thirty or 
thirty-one years ago, he was the first to get a lifeboat crew 


together at Redcar and go out to the Salt Scar through a sea 
that was unprecedented for its mountains of broken water, and 
bring off the crew of fourteen men of a three-masted vessel 
which had struck there. My mother died only eight months 
ago, at the age of eighty-four, and told this story up to the 
time of her death, and had no doubt whatever as to the terri- 
ble reality of her experience." 

How uninhabitable a house may become when 
The Nl a 8? ted haunted we have an example in the following 
narrative, which is sent me by a lady who says that 
she has carefully abstained from any embellishment, and that 
she is willing to give dates, names, and addresses of witnesses 
who will corroborate her narrative in every detail. 

" Some years ago I one day met a lady, with whom I was 
slightly acquainted, who told me that she was on the eve of 
making a change of residence. She added that her husband 

had taken a three years' lease of a house in Road, and 

when she described the costly improvements which were being 
carried on in order to make the abode luxuriously habitable, I 
remarked that the alterations were more in keeping with a 
long rather than a short lease. My surprise, therefore, was 
great, when a few months later I heard that the family, whom 
I will here call the Smythes, had removed not only from the 
house in question but from the vicinity altogether. About 
four years later we removed to a house in the same road — No. 
8, the house formerly occupied by the Smythes, being then a 
very dismal-looking residence. The hinges of its heavy gate 
were coated with rust, the front garden and approach covered 
with wild growth, while the massive portico and sills wore a 
hopelessly blackened complexion, and I again wondered why 
the Smythes had removed so suddenly. About this time I 
received a visit from a lady whose acquaintance I had made a 
month or two previous, and she began at once to discourse on 
the merits of the houses composing our road. ' I always liked 
the terrace/ she said, ' and you may judge we must have been 
terribly unnerved to leave No. 8 as we did.' I started, and 
looked astonished. ' Did you not know,' she continued, ' that 
we lived for nearly a year at No. 8? We took an expiring 
lease of the house from a Mr. Smythe. The family had only 
been in it a few months when they left very hurriedly, although 
no expense had been spared in the way of improvements to 
the house itself. Every one was surprised ; but Mr. Smythe 
told me that his "wife was suffering from*great nervous depress- 
ion, and the doctor had ordered her immediate removal at 


any cost ; " ' and, she added, { After we had been in the house a 
little time I ceased to wonder at her nervous depression, or the 
sudden removal of the family ; for the probable cause developed 
all too speedily in our own daily lives.' She went on to say, * I 
am not at all superstitious, but it is a fact that long before we 
were settled in our new abode every one became conscious of 
an eerie, uncanny feeling pervading the house and seeming 
almost atmospheric.' My friend then entered very fully into 
gruesome detail. She said that apart from the sense of the 
ghostly depression of which she had spoken, nothing was seen 
or heard for two or three weeks before their arrival. 

"When one evening, while sitting in the dining- 
jmgs. room w - t j 1 k er husband, an Australian captain, they 
were suddenly startled by a loud knocking in the fireside 
recess ; a few minutes later the knocking was repeated in the 
recess on the other side, and after a time was repeated also in 
recesses in the back room. My friend, whom I will here call 
Mrs. A., immediately sent to the adjoining house to know if 
any one was knocking for aid, but the answer returned was 

that Mr. and Mrs. were in the dining-room, the former 

being confined to the couch by indisposition. On several 
occasions a peremptory knocking at the dining-room door was 
heard, but when, on more than one occasion, the door was 
quickly opened from the inside, no one was visible. One 
evening, soon after the captain's departure for Australia, Mrs. 
A. was sitting alone in the breakfast-room, this room being in 
the basement ; no one else was in the house, for the children 
were at a juvenile gathering in the neighbourhood, and the 
servant had gone to bring them home. My friend was busily 
engrossed in writing, when suddenly she was startled by the 
tread of slippered feet across the dining-room floor, and she 
also distinctly heard a leather chair moved some distance along 
the ground, and she at once concluded that thieves were in 
the house. 

"A dog which lay on the rug also heard the 
^Dogsee*? 10 soun ds, f° r ne pricked up his ears and barked. 
Without a moment's delay she flew to the door, 
calling the dog to follow her, intending as she did so to open 
the hall door and call for assistance ; but the dog, though an 
excellent house dog, crouched at her feet and whined, but 
would not follow her up the stairs, so she carried him up in her 
arms, and, reaching the door, called for assistance ; when, 
however, the dining-room doors were opened the rooms were 
in perfect order and destitute of any signs of life. The ser- 



vant told her afterwards that, as she sat in the kitchen, she 
repeatedly heard footsteps overhead at times when she knew 
the rooms were perfectly empty. 

"After the family had been in the house a few 
T1 r bb^ ite wee ^ s > a white rabbit made its appearance. This 
uncanny animal would suddenly appear in a room 
in which members of the family were seated, and after gliding 
round and slipping under chairs and tables, would disappear 
through a brick wall as easily as through an open door. 
Mrs. A. then related another incident which had evidently 
made a profound impression on her. She said that as the 
captain was so seldom at home, and the house was very large, 
she was solicitous that the children should, if possible, be 
kept in happy ignorance of their weird surroundings. 

" Ghostly possibilities were never alluded to in 
"cr h elpSg y their presence ; she was therefore horrified one 
R w n n i 1 " 16 evening, when sitting in the dining-room in com- 
pany with her young daughter — a child of nine 
years — at seeing her suddenly spring to her feet from her seat 
on the rug, and exclaim, ' Mamma, look at that boy creeping 
round the wall ! ' The mother looked in the direction to which 
her hand pointed, but saw nothing. She then endeavoured to 
divert the child's attention, assuring her that it was only her 
nervous fancy. She partially succeeded, although the little 
one seemed much agitated. A few minutes after, however, 
she sprang to her mother's side the second time, again exclaim- 
ing, ' There is that boy again ! Look, mamma, he has slipped 
under the table.' She was greatly terrified, and begged to be 
taken from the room. 

"By Christmas time a gruesome spell had brought 
A C prrt tmaS tne ent i re family under its sway, and my friend 
said it required quite an effort to enter with zest 
into the gaieties of the season. She, however, decided to give 
a party in the New Year. The house was full of merry guests, 
fires flung hospitable gleams on bedroom and parlour wall, 
and bright gaslight shone — surely no ghost could live in such 
an atmosphere of brightness. Three or four of the guests 
were to stay till the next day. One lady, however, on leaving 
the house to catch a last train arrived at the station just in 
time to see it steaming out, and as there were no other facili- 
ties for effecting her homeward journey she returned to the 
merry party she had just left, and begged that she might be 
allowed the use of the couch in the dining-room for the night. 
Mrs. A. started at the request. The skeleton of her house for 


the first time that evening rose up before her, and she at once 
left the room to confer with her faithful domestic on the matter. 
Jane, though an excellent servant, was at all times subservient 
to her surroundings, and her advice to her mistress was in per- 
fect keeping with the mirth and music in the upper rooms. ' I 
should let her be on the couch, ma'am ; no visitors will trouble 
us to-night, that you may depend. She knows nothing of the 
things that do go on, and perhaps, after all, our fancy plays us 

tricks.' So Mrs. A. returned to her guests, and told Miss 

that the coveted couch was at her disposal. After the lapse 
of another hour or two, good-nights were said, the guests dis- 
persed, lights were put out, and she was left in undivided 
possession of the room. ' I hope you will sleep well, but burn 
the gas all night,' were her hostess' last words. Feeling tired, 
she speedily sought her couch ; but forgetting her friend s warn- 
ing with regard to the gas, she first turned out the lights and 
had not lain long when she was awoke to clearest conscious- 
ness by the sense of a presence in the room. 
The Ghost " Some one was evidently moving about in the 
enters. farther end of the front room. She lay for a 
moment or two and listened, then thought she heard a 
chair move. This sound decided her: some onehad evi- 
dently entered the room either to play her a tricky or in 
quest of something they imagined they could find in the 
dark ; so sitting up she exclaimed, ' Who is it ? What do you 
want ? ' On receiving no reply however she hastily rose, and 
after feeling about in the darkness for the matches for several 
trying seconds, found them and lit the gas, but to her dismay 
the rooms were empty; she searched under the table and 
behind the window curtains, but in vain ; she was the room's 
sole occupant. The gas-light was reassuring, and under its 
rays she reasoned with herself : she had evidently, she con- 
cluded, been dreaming when she thought herself awake, and 
her impressions belonged to the realm of dreams. So adopt- 
ing this comfortable reflection, she again addressed herself 
to repose, but in vain ; for scarcely had she fallen into slumber 
when she was once more aroused by her former impressions. 
She said afterwards that she saw nothing, and indeed dared 
not look round the rooms again, but burying her head in her 
pillow, she lay trembling violently, but utterly powerless to 
The Ghost " She at the same time was perfectly conscious 
moving f t h e movements of the ghostly intruder, knew 

unseen. ^ moment fl^ j t stood m the vicinity of the 


front window, then felt it was standing by the fire-place, then 
she knew that it moved again, and was now pausing at the 
head of the couch on which she was lying ; but she knew no 
more, for she had lost consciousness, and when she came to 
herself the morning light was contending for supremacy with 
the lighted gas jets, and the sound from the kitchen regions 
told her that another day's duties had begun. She sought her 
hostess who, in relating this incident to me, said, ' I never 
shall forget how I felt when, bursting into tears, she said, " Mrs. 
A. ! Mrs. A. ! why did you put me in that awful room last 
night ? it has almost killed me." ' She then proceeded to relate 
the experience which I have already given. 'That winter,' 
said my friend, ' was the most terrible one I have ever spent. 
I was powerless to make any change in our abode in my hus- 
band's absence, and the strange and ghostly incidents were 
now of such constant occurrence, concentrating their forces 
not only in the dining-rooms, but in one or two of the bed- 
rooms as well, that at last we all slept together in one bed- 
room my servant, on several occasions, being compelled, 
through sheer terror, to share the room as well. After Captain 
A.'s return home we lost no time in effecting our removal, but 
even now I never think without a shudder of our dreadful 
sojourn at that No. 8.' 

" Some years have now elapsed since the incident 

RabKtreturns * ^ aVe 110W re ^ed to °k pl ace ) an & a g am > m re- 
sponse to orders given by the enterprising landlord 
of the property, the long-closed doors and windows have been 
thrown open, and painters and paperhangers have brought 
their skill to bear upon gruesome rooms and halls ; the house 
is once more inhabited, this time by a widow lady and some 
grown-up sons. These tenants came from a distance, and are 
entirely strangers both to the neighbourhood and the former 
history of the house, but, to use her own words, the mistress 
'cannot understand what ails the house,' her sons insist on 
sleeping together in one room, and the quiet of the house is 
constantly being broken in upon by the erratic appearances ot 
a large white rabbit, which the inmates are frequently engaged 
chasing but are never able to find." 

In compiling this chapter I have not drawn in 
Spectres* an Y wa y u P on tne haunted houses which are re- 
ported in the Psychical Research Society's pro- 
ceedings. The narratives have been supplied me by various 
correspondents, who have written me from all parts of the 
land. Of haunted chambers, whose occupants have experi- 


enced weird and creepy feelings, there are enough and to 
spare. But I need not allude to them, as a sensation which is 
purely subjective does not supply material for investigation and 
verification. It would be improper, however, not to include in 
this chapter several familiar haunting ghosts which do no 
harm to anybody, but which cling with a strange persistency 
to some spot associated with a crisis in their former lives. A 
very good example of this is sent me by Mrs. Doby, of 1, 
Forbes Place, Paisley. She says that the following account 
of a ghost which visited her father and mother is abso- 
lutely true. They both saw the ghost at different times, 
and had no doubt whatever as to its reality. The house 
is now pulled down, so that the ghost has probably disap- 

Mr. James Doby put up at an old commercial 
Ghost story, hotel at Dunfermline. He occupied a bedroom 
close to a sitting-room, and found it was a very 
uncomfortable place to sleep in. He was restless and fever- 
ish, and being unable to sleep, he lay turning from side to side, 
when to his great surprise he saw the door open. Thinking that 
it was a thief, he prepared to defend himself, but to his astonish- 
ment he saw a little old gentleman dressed in the costume of 
the last century, with lace ruffles at his wrists, knee breeches, 
a rapier by his side and his hat under his arm, cross the room to 
a large old chest. Taking a key from his pocket, he opened it 
and lifted the lid, and searched the chest. After looking for a 
long time, he closed the chest with a look of disappointment, 
and left the room by the door through which he had entered. 
Finding, next morning, that the door had been locked all night, 
Mr. Doby concluded he had been dreaming, and dismissed the 
subject from his mind. Next month he occupied the same room, 
and, as morning approached, he woke up and again saw the old 
man come in and go through the same search. He was quite 
awake, and the moment his visitor turned to go he jumped 
out of bed to follow him, but found to his astonishment the 
door locked, which a moment before he had seen open. He 
unlocked the door and went out upon the landing, but could 
see no one. A third time he occupied the room the old 
gentleman came again. Whenever he came a brilliant light 
filled the room, which obscured the light of a small jet of gas 
which was burning. He tried to speak to it, but failed ; he 
could never find his voice. After the third visit he gave up 
sleeping in that room. Two years afterwards he again visited 
the inn, this time with his wife, to whom he had never men- 


tioned the fact of the apparition. As no other room was 
available, his wife and he were quartered in the haunted room. 
In the middle of the night he was awakened by a brilliant 
light, and he saw his wife get out of bed and try to open the 
door. She was very much excited, and describing the old 
gentleman, said that he had entered the room, gone to the 
chest, and then had gone out again. 

On making inquiries at the inn, he found that 
starcherfor the old chest, which was always opened by the 
the wm. sing g host > belonged to an old Roman Catholic family, 
who had once lived within a few miles of Dun- 
fermline. When the family became extinct the effects were 
sold, and this box bought by the landlord of the inn. It seems 
that the old laird had quarrelled with his son for marrying his 
gardener's daughter, and had made a will leaving the estates 
to a nephew, but afterwards, finding that his nephew was a 
loose character, he made another will restoring his son to his 
inheritance. His son, however, was abroad when the father 
died, and the nephew possessed himself of the property and 
made away with the second will. The housekeeper, however, 
knew of the will and told him that his father had left the 
property by a will which was deposited in the old charter box. 
When, however, the son came to look for the will he could not 
find it. His health was failing and his intellect was weak, and 
for some weeks he searched daily in that chest for the missing 
will, and failing to find it, he died, and since that time his 
ghost seems to have haunted the spot, and when the box was 
transferred from the hall to the inn he went with the box. 
This is a very curious case, and it would have been very inter- 
esting to have tried to photograph the defrauded heir when he 
came, night after night, to open the box and look for the miss- 
ing will. A Kodak ready for instantaneous use, and provided 
with flash light, ought to solve the question as to whether such 
ghosts possess sufficient objectivity to leave an impression of 
their existence upon a sensitive plate. This is a type of a 
numerous family of ghosts of whose existence the phonograph 
may give us some hint by way of analogy. You speak into 
the phonograph, and for ever after as long as the phonograph 
is set in action it will reproduce the tone of your voice. You 
may be dead and gone, but still the phonograph will reproduce 
your voice, while, with it, every tone will be audible to pos- 
terity. So it may be in relation to ghosts. A strong emotion 
may be able to impress itself upon surrounding objects in such 
a fashion that at certain times, or under certain favourable 


conditions, they reproduce the actual image and actions of the 
person whose ghost is said to haunt. 

Here is a capital story from Wales, told by a 
ma h n e, s P stor e y. veteran policeman :— 

" I was born in M the year 181 9. I joined 

the M police force at twenty-five years of age, and have 

served for forty-six years through all the grades from P.C. to 
Superintendent, most of which time I have been stationed in 
the small market town of LI 1. I have now been super- 
annuated under the new County Council regulation. During 
the many years I spent in the Force I have had some rough 
experiences in street rows, night poaching affairs, etc., and my 
worst enemies would hardly charge me with lack of pluck 
under sometimes dangerous circumstances. However, I must 
admit that I was on three occasions thoroughly unnerved, and 
as you requested, through the medium of the late number of 
the Review of Reviews, particulars of any supernatural visita- 
tion, at first hand or otherwise, I venture to give particulars of 
my adventures on the above-mentioned occasions. 

"The scene of the said adventures was an old- 
fashioned mansion know as G., situated about 
eight miles from this town (and now used by the noble owner 
as a shooting-box). A Captain H., R.N., occupied the 
place for some years, and I became intimately acquainted with 
him, and found him particularly kind and liberal. He was 
very popular in the neighbourhood, and took great interest in 
agriculture. His household consisted of a few female servants 
and a niece, who acted as his housekeeper. The latter was mar- 
ried to a Capt. L., who was a worthless spendthrift. His wife's 
uncle supplied him with money for a time, but eventually got 
tired of his extravagance, and turned him adrift, at the same 
time giving his wife a home at G. 
His Death " ^ n November 10th, 187 1, I was grieved to get 
a note from Mrs. L., who stated that her uncle 
had died suddenly of apoplexy on the previous night, and 
earnestly requesting me to come and stay in the house until his 
friends and relations should come over for the funeral. Of 
course I was only too glad to accede to her request. She in- 
formed me that her husband was somewhere in the neighbour- 
hood, and she was afraid he might make a descent on the 
house and possess himself of valuables and documents he 
might come across. She requested me to examine carefully 
all the doors and windows before going to bed, as she was very 
nervous. I retired about eleven o'clock, having had a very 


slight supper, and feeling very comfortable. At about one 
o'clock in the morning, as near as I could tell, I woke with an 
undennable sensation, and I could not help feeling that some- 
thing was going to happen. I listened intently for a few 
moments, when I could hear a door open and a step approach- 
ing. At first I thought some one was going to one of the 
rooms in what they called the tower — past my bedroom. 
His Ghost " However, when the steps appeared at my door, 
it was gently pushed open, and to my horror in 
came my poor (late) friend the Captain, dressed as I had 
often seen him at this market, in a brown suit and ' knicker- 
bockers.' He held in his hand a large, antique brass candle- 
stick, in which was a ' mould ' candle. He passed up to the 
chimney-piece, about two yards from the bed, and took up a 
large meerschaum pipe, which I had 'not noticed previously, 
and after examining it intently replaced it on the chimney- 
piece. He then went to the dressing-table, took down some 
trinkets, etc., from the looking-glass frame, and returned them 
in the same way. He then approached the bed, and appeared 
to draw aside the curtains. I do not know how long he stood 
there looking me straight in the face with his old benevolent 
smile. All this time I was sitting up in bed, and staring in 
terror. _ At last he (or it) leisurely left the room, and I could 
hear his footsteps going towards the room where the poor 
gentleman was lying in his coffin. Next morning I considered 
the matter over, and finally decided to tell no one of the 
matter but my wife, as it might prejudice the letting of the 
house, and that would not suit any one in the neighbourhood. 
I told my wife that nothing on earth could induce me to spend 
such another night, but she laughed at me, and said I had had 
a heavy supper, etc., and that it was all imagination. Finally, 
I was shamed into going back the next night. The second 
night the same occurrence took place. The third night was a 
repetition of the first and second, with the difference that I had 
made up my mind, if possible, to speak to the apparition, but 
totally failed to open my mouth. On the fourth day some 
members of the family arrived from the eastern counties. On 
that night I slept peaceably until daylight, when I was very 
glad finally to bid adieu to the place. For two or three years 
afterwardsl never ventured to return late alone from the C. 
Petty Sessions by the road passing the house, but always took 
the upper mountain road. I shall never forget the sensations 
of those three nights, and, although not naturally superstitious, 
I have never been able to account for the appearances on 
natural grounds." 



Mr. J. B. Killen, B.L., 31, Lower Gardiner 
Gho e stsS a cork. Street, Dublin, sends me the following account of 
an experience which befell him more than twenty 
years ago, when he was residing in the city of Cork — in that 
part of it known as Sunday's Well — a sort of suburb situated 
upon the lofty slopes on the north side of the city : — 

" I was quite familiar with the locality, having lived in it for 
nearly two years while a student of the Queen's College 
attached to the city where I was at the time I refer to. It 
was in the month of November, shortly after the opening of 
the college session. The day was disagreeable in more senses 
than one. For some trivial reason a difference had arisen 
between my landlady and myself, the consequence of which 
was that I abruptly left my lodgings. Towards evening I 
secured another place, near where I had been staying, on the 
recommendation of a lady of my acquaintance (whom I shall 
call Mrs. M.), and it was on the first and only night of my 
staying there that the phenomenon to which I have referred 

" There was nothing exciting or sensational in the transac- 
tions of the day ; they were prosaic and commonplace in the 
extreme. A domestic dispute which did not last more than ten 
minutes, a search for another shelter, which could scarcely 
have occupied more than an hour, the removal of impedimenta 
almost too trifling to deserve the name, perhaps five minutes, 
chat with a friend I may have casually met — that was all. 
When the day was nearly over, I found myself seated by the 
fire in the sitting-room of my new lodgings. 

"I sat far into the night, smoking and reading Lytton's 
strange novel, ' A Strange Story/ by the fire alone. It was 
near two o'clock when, lighting my bedroom candle, I crossed 
the hall and entered the room. Having locked the door and 
extinguished the candle, I went to bed and soon fell asleep. 
I could not have slept more than half an hour when I suddenly 
awoke, and in the faint glimmer that came through the chinks 
of the shutters from the lamp outside, or from some other light 
for the presence of which I cannot account, I distinctly saw 
the bedroom door open, and three male figures enter, one 
immediately after the other. A few steps brought them along- 
side my bed, where they halted, and looking at me intently, 
with eyes horribly blue and glassy, they each simultaneously 
raised its right arm slowly and solemnly extended it towards 
me. The figures were of the full stature of men, the foremost 
being the tallest of all three, and were dressed in the Quaker 


costume of two hundred years ago, a kind of dress I had never 
seen except, perhaps, in pictures. For a moment I was 
stunned, and for the first time in my life I felt the sensation of 
horror. Recovering the use of my voice, I asked, hoarsely 
enough I must confess, ' Who are you ? ' No reply was given, 
but immediately the words were spoken, the figures, still keep- 
ing their great blue eyes fixed upon me, and fixed upon me 
with an expression of the deepest sadness, not to say pain, 
began slowly to move, and passed, as it seemed to me, into the 
wall at the end of the little room. I got up at once, lit my 
candle, and examined the door. Everything was as I had left 
it, nor, though I listened intently in the hope of hearing some 
human sound, did anything reach my ears except the moaning 
of the wind among the sad-looking trees opposite, and the faint 
rush of the river in the hollows below. 

"I went to bed again, extinguished the candle, and fell into a 
sort of slumber. Suddenly and soon I awoke again, and with 
even more distinctness than on the previous occasion the door 
seemed to open, the apparitions, in every respect the same, 
entered, crossed the floor in precisely the same deliberate way, 
stopped in front of my bed, raised their arms and looked at 
me in the same solemn and pitiful manner, then passed into 
the wall as before. This time I was more collected, and, 
besides putting my former question, asked what they wanted 
and could I do anything for them? From these questions it is 
pretty evident, whatever my cooler judgment may have inclined 
to afterwards, that I had a suspicion at the time that the 
apparitions were really of a ghostly character. This, however, 
by the way. To my questions I received no reply, so having 
lit the candle, I examined the room and door, but found every- 
thing as I had left them. After a short delay I extinguished 
the candle, and returning to bed, fell into a disturbed slumber 
as before. Again, and after no great length of time, the same 
thing occurred, alike in every particular to the phenomena that 
had preceded, but, if possible, more distinct. This time my 
sensations of horror were getting mixed up with a certain 
feeling of sensation at being so frequently and so unmeaningly 
disturbed by visitors who refused, when civilly spoken to, to 
give any answer, or to tell the object of their visit, and my voice 
sounded quite sharply in the stillness of the rocm as I put my 
questions with some additions to them as before, and with the 
same result. Lighting my candle quickly on the disappearance 
of the figures, I got up, unlocked and opened the bedroom 
door, and going into the hall, looked ' with all my eyes ' into 


the darkness and called out in a loud tone of voice, ' Is any 
one there ? ' There was no reply of any kind, and the only 
sound besides that of the wind and the river which broke the 
silence, came from the heavy breathing of some sleeper, who, 
I suppose, was the old woman in the apartment below. 

"Returning to my bedroom I locked the door as before, but 
this time I did not put out the candle, nor did I go to. sleep. 
It had little more than burned down to the socket when the 
day began to break and I arose. There had been no reap- 
pearance of the apparitions, but, judging from the face I saw in 
the glass, they had been with me often enough. It was deadly 
pale, haggard, and almost wild in expression, and seemed fully 
ten years older than it had been the night before. I left the 
house at once. I heard afterwards that it had the reputation 
of being haunted. 

" Neither time, reflection, nor the opinions of the many to 
whom I have repeated the story, have made it less a mystery. 
There was nothing in my previous experience, or the then 
condition of my mind or body to throw a ray of light upon it. 
I was in my usual good health at the time. I had not been 
thinking, or reading of, or speaking to, any member of the 
Society of Friends, nor had I ever more than a casual acquaint- 
ance with any member of the body in my whole life, much less 
seen any of them in the costume in which the apparition 
appeared. Moreover, this appearance was so unmeaning, so 
entirely, as it would seem, without aim or object (unless, 
— which is an absurd if not impossible supposition — to cause me 
a temporary inconvenience), that, if ghosts at all, we must 
believe them to have been ghosts who had lost any little 
common sense they may have had when in the flesh. What 
makes the matter still more mysterious is that I am not, as 
some people profess to be, in the habit of meeting with any 
such experiences. The one I have referred to was the first and 
last I ever had." 



MRS. TALBOT COKE, the editor of Hearth and Home, 
whose husband is on the staff of Lord Wolseley in 
Ireland, has had the good fortune to see a ghost no fewer than 
three times. Her narrative is very straightforward, and it 
would be interesting to know whether the hotel in question 
still keeps its famous haunted chamber shut up from the 
general public. If so, it might be worth while for some 
benevolently disposed person to ascertain what the ghost wanted 
Mrs. Coke to do. Mrs. Coke writes as follows :— 

" It was the year of the Franco-Prussian war ; my husband (a 
soldier) and I were staying at the peaceful little Felsenthor 
Pension, half-way up the Righi mountain, when war was 

" Captain Coke's leave of absence was so nearly run out that 
we deemed it advisable to start homewards at once, knowing 
that the railway service would be much upset by the sudden 
movement of troops. 

"We therefore hastened down the mountain, 
" KiingL 1 " 66 wiring on to the Trois Rois Hotel at Basle for 
rooms (the hotel to which we had sent on our 
heavy baggage some weeks before). 

" Arriving at Basle we found the Trois Rois in a chaotic fer- 
ment, luggage of flying tourists piled nearly to the roof of the 
big hall. [Those who know the hotel will remember it was, 
hundreds of years ago, a nobleman's palace ; those who do not 
will please note the fact, as the common or garden hotel is not 
a good mise en scene for a ghost.] The frenzied manager knew 
nothing of rooms for us, nothing of our baggage j but we were 
firm in saying, as they had our boxes, we must sleep in the 
hotel that one night. Then ensued an excited argument in 
German, by which I learnt that one man advocated a certain 
room, while another, with exclamations and gestures of horror, 



" Being nothing if not practical, my thoughts 
A R*oom ted ^ ew t0 small-pox (then prevalent on the Con- 
tinent), and I pictured a corpse being hastily 
removed from the proposed room, so stepping forward I told 
them German was to me as my own tongue, and that I 
insisted on knowing whether there had been illness in the 
proposed room. 

" I mention this to show no thought of any other objection 
to it even crossed my matter-of-fact mind. 

" They assured me, so far from that, that the room had not 
been used since they could remember, but that it was dirty, 
unfurnished, and quite unfit for the ' Hochgeborene gnadige 

" Disposing of all these polite scruples, we decided to take 
the room — a long narrow attic up several flights of stairs — 
with a squalid-looking little bed at either end, a bare boarded 
floor, a white-tiled china stove, a couple of chairs, and the 
skimpiest of washing necessaries, and windows looking on the 
river. We had a merry dinner, went out afterwards to a cafe 
chantant, and at last climbed to our eyrie, and went thank- 
fully to bed. 

" I was wakened by the feeling of some one 
Pale-faced bending over me, and sat up to see a little pale- 
^hirt" ° f f ace d woman of about thirty close to me. She 
wore a dark dress, on the bodice of which was a 
curious square of gold and coloured embroidery. She had 
faded-looking brown hair, which hung in two plaits down her 
back, and was slightly deformed ; the face had the pathetic 
appealing look often seen on people thus afflicted. At first, 
so real was the presence, I thought it was one of the Swiss 
chambermaids, but when I saw she carried no light, and that 
the room was pitch dark, save for a halo round her figure 
(something like a bad magic-lantern), I — being, as before said, 
a practical woman — thought ' the hot sun coming down the 
Righi has upset my liver/ turned over with my face to the 
wall, and went to sleep again, but only to experience the same 
feeling that some one was bending over me. 

. , " This time she stood between me and the wall, 

and I noticed with surprise that though she 
looked exactly like a real person, she was yet so transparent 
that when, determined to investigate matters, I laid my hand 
on her shoulder (need I say I only felt the cold wall ?) I could 
see the gleam of my wedding ring through her quaint em- 
broidery. The moment I touched her she seemed to slip 


down between the bed and the wall, and the last thing I saw 
were wan hands clasped as if in entreaty. I feel I should be 
telling the story far better if I could say the ' blood froze in 
my veins, my hair stood on end, vainly I tried to cry out,' etc., 
but, to be truthful, I, though somewhat staggered, was not 
frightened, but more annoyed at being again awakened. 
Thinking it might be the heat which affected me, I dragged 
the mattress under one of the little windows, and was soon 
once more asleep. 

" But again the forced awakening. This time 

^gainl 1 the figure stood at the bottom of the mattress, 
and the strange indescribable look of solid trans- 
parency — which I can see to this day — showed the gleam of 
the white-tiled stove through the figure which stood out com- 
plete and perfect in its weird halo. 

" Her right arm pointed to the door ; her face with the sad 
eyes (which yet seemed to see nothing), sadder than ever, 
seemed asking me to follow ; but here I confess my courage 
failed, and, sitting up, I watched her fade gradually away, 
chased, perhaps, by the coming dawn which soon after came 
in cold and pale at the little windows. 

" I have never yet told this true tale without the question, 
'Why didn't you wake your husband?' Common sense 
again, because I knew he was tired, and the visitant was not 
of a nature to alarm. Had it been that of a truculent-looking 
man with a dagger, I might perhaps have been beguiled into 
the orthodox ' shriek of terror.' 

" Beyond plentiful enquiries from employes downstairs, ■ Ob 
die gnadige Frau wohlgeschlafenhat ? ' and no attempt at 
comment or denial when I stated that I quite understood why 
the room was not used, there was no sequel to the adven- 

" Another frequent suggestion from auditors is that I was 
1 the victim of a freak with a magic lantern from a house 
opposite,' but any one knowing the quaint old hotel knows 
the height the top floor is above the broad river which 
stretches between the Trois Rois and other habitations ; nor 
would any slide have thrown those wan, passionately clasped 
hands, or that gesture, between entreaty and command. 

" No ! the proper explanation of what I saw, and why, has 
yet to be offered me." 
a Ghost in It ls not °f ten tnat ghosts are brought into a 

the Law court of law, but in the following case, which is 
sent me by an Anglican clergyman, the ghost 


formed the matter of a lawsuit. The judge, however, ruled 
that ghosts could not be admitted to exist, and the person who 
refused to pay his rent, on the ground that the apartments 
were already tenanted, lost his case. 

"During the Nice season of 1858-9, I was staying there 
with some of my family in a house near the old town, but on 
the opposite side of the river. It is much changed there now. 
We occupied a part of the Rue de Chausee. Exactly over 
our apartment was a set of rooms that were not let during any 
part of the season, although I was told by the landlady that 
they were good rooms and well furnished; but she never 
offered to show them to me, nor did I ever see them during 
the six months I remained in the house. 

"However, the house was large, and adjoining the said 
rooms, the best for sun, etc., in the house, by their position, 
were other rooms on the same floor, and to these rooms came 
a German lady and her two sons, to lodge for the winter. The 
elder of the sons was a young musician, in the habit of 
playing the piano far into the small hours of the night when he 
first arrived. 

" It was soon reported to us that the German family was 
troubled with a ghost. We heard different tales about their 
being much alarmed ; and at length it was whispered that 
the whole family, their servant included, had been so frightened 
that they all slept in one room. 

" Affairs were thus when, one morning, the landlady, a 
Mademoiselle Rose, an aged lady who had been a fashion- 
able dressmaker in her time, and was well known in Nice, 
which was then Italian, entered our rooms in violent agitation, 
holding a large key in her hand. She said the German lady 
and her son were about to leave the house that very day, 
because they alleged that the night before, while a lady and 
gentleman, both artists of Nice, were spending the evening 
with them, a monk had passed through a door of the room in 
which they sat, which door communicated with the under 
apartment, that the monk had crossed the room and filled 
them with terror. I do not remember how they said he got 
out of the room, nor could the landlady tell how he got in. 
1 How could the monk have got through that door ? ' exclaimed 
Mademoiselle Rose, holding up the key, ' for here is the key 
of it, that I have had all along in my possession ; and there is 
a bureau against the door on the other side.' 

"Ghosts, by all accounts, have done even more curious 
things than that. Only the landlady did not call it a ghost, 


but a monk. The German lady was as good as her word. 
They all left the house that day, and took lodgings else- 
where. What is more, the German lady refused to pay the 
rent. The consequence was the landlady sued her in court. 
The case was in the newspapers — I saw it there. The Judge 
decreed that, as the law did not recognise ghosts, the German 
lady must pay the rent for the season. If I remember right, 
the younger son of the German lady acknowledged that 
his brother had seen a ghost before, which ghost was also 
a monk. 

" We were never incommoded during our stay of six months 
by any apparition." 

Mr. William Paterson Henry, writing from Old 

bSJSSSw. Bank H o use > Macduff, N.B., sends me the fol- 
lowing account of a haunted Ceylon bungalow. 
He says : — 

" At the time of the occurrence I am about to relate we were 
living on the Black Forest tea and coffee garden in the island 
of Ceylon. Our family consisted of my wife, self, and two 
children, with the usual staff of servants. Our bungalow was 
situated on the spur of a hill which ran at a right angle across 
a large valley, comprising some hundreds of acres under tea 
and coffee. The bungalow, forming three sides of a square, 
consisted of the main building with a frontage of about ninety 
feet, and a back wing at each end ; the one on the north side 
containing nursery and children's bath and dressing rooms, 
and on the south, dining-room, pantry, and scullery, only 
removed by a few yards from the kitchen and servants' rooms. 
A ten-feet wide verandah ran along the entire length of the 
house in front, and was continued round the north end as far 
as the nursery door. 

" One night after we had visited the nursery 

T k52S?* an( * seen ttiat a11 was ri S nt we retired to our own 
room, and were soon in bed and asleep. I had 
slept, as I afterwards ascertained, for about a couple of hours, 
when I slowly awoke with a dim consciousness that there was 
some one in the room. Seeing nothing, I lay down again. 
Hardly, however, had I done so, when I was aroused by 
a loud sound of knocking— six distinct knocks I counted — 
and had no difficulty in tracing the sound to the door of the 
children's dressing-room, removed but a few feet from my back 
window. I lay quite still, listening intently, and half expect- 
ing to hear the door open, but instead of this the knocking 
was again repeated. 


" My wife then came in from her room. On comparing 
notes I found she had been awakened in exactly the same 
manner, and had then heard the six distinct knocks twice 
repeated. I was already dressed in pyjamas, and hastily 
encasing my feet in a pair of slippers, I went out to see what 
caused the knocking. 

" I was completely puzzled to account for the 
Th Fiks° st disturbance, and was just on the point of returning 
to the bungalow baffled, when my attention was 
suddenly arrested by a white form crouching under a Hibiscus 
shrub within three feet of where I then stood. Immediately 
on being discovered it assumed the upright form, and bolted 
along the path in front of me. I promptly gave pursuit for 
ten or a dozen paces, but the distance between us was so 
speedily increased that I gave up the chase, and was fain to 
content myself by hurling threats of shooting, etc., after the 
retreating figure. I stood in the road and turned the full 
light of the lamp on it for a distance of some eighty yards, 
until a bend in the path hid it from my sight. On my return 
to the bungalow, in reply to my wife's inquiries, I described 
what I had seen as a figure having the appearance of a native 
man considerably above the average height, with a huge 
white turban encircling his head, while all the upper part of 
his body, and as far down as the middle of the thigh, was 
enveloped in a loose flowing robe of Madras muslin, the end 
of which fluttered over the right shoulder as the form 
retreated. As I was proceeding with my description, it 
suddenly struck me that not only were the lower limbs in- 
visible, but there was not the faintest sound of footsteps as 
it sped along the road. 

" Next day, when I returned to the bungalow 
the^'hos" 1 ! 3 " * 0T m y m id-day breakfast, I found that my wife 
had been ventilating our previous night's experi- 
ence amongst the servants with a view to obtaining some light 
on the matter, and was not a little astonished to discover the 
matter-of-course manner in which her circumstantial account 
of our midnight visitor was received. ' Why, that's the ghost? 
they exclaimed with one voice. ' Master and lady have seen 
the ghost ; that's all.' 'Twas ' only the ghost? they reiterated, 
and there was therefore not the slightest cause for alarm. It 
seemed, then, that the ghost was quite an old acquaintance 
of theirs. 1 was somewhat amused with the explanation, but 
thinking it might lead to something, I summoned our ser- 
vants, who were partly Tamils from the Malabar Coast, and 



partly Singhalese natives of the country, and subjected them 
one by one to a most severe cross-examination in their re- 
spective languages in my office. With some insignificant and 
immaterial details, all their descriptions agreed in a manner 
that was at once striking and startling. 

11 The gardener, who came to work in the grey 
denw^sStory. d awn °f tne morning, had frequently seen the 

'Ahvie or Pezazi' (ghost or devil) loitering twixt 
the dining-room and nursery doors. The first time he saw it, 
he supposed it to be a coolie from some neighbouring estate, 
who had arrived over-night with a letter — a thing of frequent 
occurrence — and passed by to begin his day's duties without 
remark. The following morning, on finding the figure again 
in the same place, he accosted it with the question, 'What 
estate do you come from?' He received no reply, and again 
passed on towards the kitchen. On the third morning he 
again perceived the same figure, and on this occasion sum- 
moned up courage to put out his hand, with the idea of seizing 
what he had concluded was some person there for no honest 
purpose. To his astonishment and horror, his hand grasped 
nothing, and he hurried along to the kitchen in a state of the 
utmost fear and excitement. On recounting his experiences 
of the past three mornings to the inmates, he was good^ 
naturedly assured that there was no cause for alarm. ' You 
have only seen the ghost. Don't be afraid.' ' What Ghost ? ' 
' Why, the bungalow ghost, to be sure. Master's ghost ! ' 
The cattle-keeper and groom had much the same account 
to give ; the former had many times seen the figure loitering 
on the road leading to the cattle-shed in the early dawn, while 
the latter had often seen it standing in the stable door. The 
head servant, the cook, the kitchen-matey, and the bungalow 
boy all gave like testimony to its appearance, viz. — that it was 
that of a very tall man, dressed in a large white turban and 
loose flowing robes of white Madras muslin. 

" On the ayah's return a few days later I took 
jwalfsaid tne earnest opportunity of examining her, and 

before there was time for any collusion with the 
other servants. Oh, yes, she had many, many times been 
aroused from sleep by loud knocking on the nursery door, 
generally about midnight, and often had she gone and opened 
the door, sometimes to see nothing at all, and at other times 
to see the tall figure of a man dressed in flowing white robes. 
'Was there anything peculiar about the knocking? Was 
it a double or a single knock ? ' 'Six distinct single knocks ! ' 


1 Always the same number ? ' ' Always the same.' { When 
did she last hear it?' 'Quite recently, but she really could 
not fix a date, as it was of such frequent occurrence that she had 
ceased to pay any attention to it.' All subsequent inquiry led 
up to the same point— ample corroboration, but not a scintilla 
of explanation — but not one step beyond. In very truth an 
insolvable mystery ! 

"The Pezazi continued to favour us, or, at least, our 
domestics, with his visits from time to time, but unless 
specially questioned no one made any mention of his appear- 
ance outside the kitchen walls. For months after I used 
every means I could think of to throw light upon it, but all 
in vain. Four or five years have passed away since then, 
but nothing whatever has occurred to throw any light on 
the circumstances set forth, and I am utterly at a loss for any 
. n The following story reaches me from across the 

A Gruesome . , ' . ° ■'-. , „, _, 

Horror in Atlantic. It appeared in the San Francisco 
Georgia. Examiner, November 29th, 1891. If it is not 
true it is at least w r ell invented, the item about the cat being 
in itself sufficient to justify its reproduction here. The 
authority for the story is a correspondent of the Chicago Press, 
in Statesborough, Georgia. The occurrences are said to have 
begun about the first week in November, in a house occupied 
by a farmer of education, named Walsingham, in Oakville, 
on the Savannah river. Not believing in ghosts, the Wal- 
singhams at first attributed the disturbances to mischievous 
neighbours. This explanation, however, soon had to be 
abandoned : — 

"These disturbances generally took the form 

wliGk Broken. °f n0lSQS m tne nouse after tne family had retired 
and the light extinguished — continual banging of 
the doors, things overturned, the door-bell rang, and the 
annoying of the house dog, a large and intelligent mastiff. 

11 One day Don Caesar, the mastiff, was found in the hallway 
barking furiously and bristling with rage, while his eyes 
seemed directed to the wall just before him. At last he 
made a spring forward with a hoarse yelp of ungovernable 
fury, only to fall back as if flung down by some powerful and 
cruel hand. Upon examination it was found that his neck 
had been broken. 

11 The house cat, on the contrary, seemed rather 

T the Ghos?. d to en J ov tne favour of the ghost, and would often 

enter a door as if escorting some visitor in, whose 


hand was stroking her back. She would also climb about a 
chair, rubbing herself and purring as if well pleased at the 
presence of some one in the seat. She and Don Caesar 
invariably manifested this eccentric conduct at the same 
time, as though the mysterious being was visible to both 
of them. 

"The annoying visitant finally took to rousing the family at 
all hours of the night by making such a row as to render any 
rest impossible. 

"This noise, which consisted of shouts, groans, 
^cliarfvarf 1 hideous laughter, and a peculiar, most distressing 
wail, would sometimes proceed, apparently, from 
under the house, sometimes from the ceiling, and at other 
times in the very room in which the family was seated. One 
night Miss Amelia Walsingham, the young lady daughter, was 
engaged at her toilet, when she felt a hand laid softly on her 
shoulder. Thinking it her mother or sister, she glanced in 
the glass before her, only to be thunderstruck at seeing the 
mirror reflect no form but her own, though she could plainly 
see a man's broad hand lying on her arm. 

" She brought the family to her by her screams, but when 
they reached her all sign of the mysterious hand was gone. 
Mr. Walsingham himself saw footsteps form beside his own 
while walking through the garden after a light rain. 

"The marks were those of a man's naked feet, and fell 
beside his own as if the person walked at his side. 

" Matters grew so serious that the Walsinghams became 
frightened and talked of leaving the house, when an event 
took place that confirmed them in this determination. The 
family was seated at the supper-table with several guests who 
were spending the evening, when a loud groan was heard in 
the room overhead. 
tol . _ . "This was, however, nothing unusual, and very 

Blood Drip- ... . 7 , ' . ° . ' . . J 

ping from little notice was taken of it until one of the visitors 
the ceiling. p j nte( j out a sta j n f w ] iat i 00 ked like blood on 

the white tablecloth, and it was seen that some liquid was 
slowly dripping on the table from the ceiling overhead. This 
liquid was so much like freshly-shed blood as to horrify those 
who watched its slow dropping. Mr. Walsingham, with 
several of his guests, ran hastily upstairs and into the room 
directly over the one into which the blood was dripping. 

" A carpet covered the floor, and nothing appeared to ex- 
plain the source of the ghastly rain ; but, anxious to satisfy 
themselves thoroughly, the carpet was immediately ripped up, 


and the boarding found to be perfectly dry, and even covered 
with a thin layer of dust, and all the while the floor was being 
examined the persons below could swear the blood never 
ceased to drip. A stain the size of a dinner-plate was formed 
before the drops ceased to fall. This stain was examined 
next day under the microscope, and was pronounced by com- 
petent chemists to be human blood. 
The Ghost " Tne Walsinghams left the house the next day, 
Faced for a and since then the place has been apparently 
Wager * given over to spooks and evil spirits, which make 
the night hideous with the noise of revel, shouts, and furious 
yells. Hundreds from all over this county and adjacent ones 
have visited the place, but few have the courage to pass the 
night in the haunted house. One daring spirit, one Horace 
Gunn, of Savannah, however, accepted a wager that he could 
not spend twenty-four hours in it, and did so, though he 
declares that there is not enough money in the county to 
make him pass another night there. He was found the morn- 
ing after by his friends with whom he made the wager in an 
insensible condition, and was with difficulty brought out of the 
swoon. He has never recovered from the shock of his horrible 
experience, and is still confined to his bed suffering from 
nervous prostration. 

"His story is that shortly after nightfall he en- 
Breath Blows deavoured to kindle a fire in one of the rooms and 
Lightf t0 ^S nt tne lam P with which he had provided 
himself, but to his surprise and consternation, 
found it impossible to do either. An icy breath, which 
seemed to proceed from some invisible person at his side, 
extinguished each match as he lighted it. At this peculiarly 
terrifying turn of affairs Mr. Gunn would have left the house 
and forfeited the amount of his wager, a considerable one, 
but he was restrained by the fear of ridicule of his story not 
being believed in. He seated himself in the dark with what 
calmness he could, and waited developments. 

" For some time nothing occurred, and the 
An chase! ble y oun g man was half dozing, when, after an hour or 
two, he was brought to his feet by a sudden yell of 
pain or rage that seemed to come from under the house. This 
appeared to be the signal for an outbreak of hideous noises all 
over the house. The sound of running feet could be heard 
scurrying up and down the stairs, hastening from one room to 
another, as if one person fled from the pursuit of a second. 
This kept up for nearly an hour, but at last ceased altogether, 


and for some time Mr. Gunn sat in darkness and quiet, and 
had about concluded that the performance was over for the 
night. At last his attention was attracted by a white spot 
that gradually appeared on the opposite wall from him. 

11 This spot continued to brighten, until it seemed 

A Head tly a ^ sc °^ wn ^ te nre > when the horrified spectator 
saw that the light emanated from and surrounded 
a human head, which, without a body or any visible means of 
support, was moving slowly along the wall, about the height 
of a man from the floor. This ghastly head appeared to be 
that of an aged person, though whether male or female it was 
difficult to determine. The hair was long and grey, and 
matted together with dark clots of blood, which also issued 
from a deep jagged wound in one temple. The cheeks were 
fallen in and the whole face indicated suffering and unspeak- 
able misery. The eyes were wide open, and gleamed with an 
unearthly fire, while the glassy balls seemed to follow the terror- 
stricken Mr. Gunn, who was too thoroughly paralysed by what 
he saw to move or cry out. Finally, the head disappeared and 
the room was once more left in darkness, but the young man 
could hear what seemed to be half a dozen persons moving 
about him, while the whole house shook as if rocked by some 
violent earthquake. 

„ . . " The groaning and wailing that broke forth 

Grasped by _ ° .. °. & , . j ... , 

icy Hands from every direction was something terrific, and 
and 'Throttled. an uneart hiy ratt i e an d banging as of china and 

tin pans being flung to the ground floor from the upper storey 
added to the deafening noise. Gunn at last roused himself 
sufficiently to attempt to leave the haunted house. Feeling 
his way along the wall in order to avoid the beings, whatever 
they were, that filled the room, the young man had nearly suc- 
ceeded in reaching the door when he found himself seized by 
the ankle and was violently thrown to the floor. He was 
grasped by icy hands, which sought to grip him about the 
throat. He struggled with his unseen foe, but was soon over- 
powered and choked into insensibility. When found by his 
friends his throat was black with the marks of long, thin 
fingers, armed with cruel, curved nails. 

"The only explanation that can be found for these 
mysterious manifestations is that about three months ago 
a number of bones were discovered on the Walsingham place 
which some declared even then to be those of a human being. 
Mr. Walsingham pronounced them, however, to be an ani- 
mal's, and they were hastily thrown into an adjacent limekiln. 


It is supposed to be the outraged spirit of a person to whom 
they belonged in life that is now creating such consterna- 



" There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, 
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy." — Hamlet, Act i. sc. 5. 

THAT quotation is the most hackneyed in the language. 
That is why I have used it. I have hardly found one 
individual to whom I have told the " Real Ghost Stories " who 
has not taken refuge in Shakespeare's familiar couplet. The 
tritest reflection is the most general. But the perusal of " Real 
Ghost Stories " may convert what has hitherto been but a 
meaningless phrase into a solid and abiding conviction. 

If this be the case, the reader will ask, what are these " more 
things " ? If he does not ask it, the phrase for him is still 
only a phrase with no soul in it. For if it be a fact that, as 
our other great poet affirms, — 

" Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth 
Unseen, both while we wake and when we sleep," 

it is impossible not to feel a natural and healthy curiosity as to 
what these creatures may be. Nor do I think it possible to 
read all the evidence massed within the covers of this book, 
without having a deeper sense of the reality and the nearness 
of the Invisible World borne in upon the mind. 

The net result of the study of the most fascinating subjects, 
if I test it by its effect upon my own mind, cannot fail to be 
for good and almost only for good. I began the compilation 
of this volume somewhat lightly, little dreaming that I should 
close it with so serious a sense of the enormous importance of 
the subject, and so deep a conviction as to the results likely to 
follow a revolution in the attitude of the popular mind towards 
the phenomena of the occult world. These results are both 
scientific and religious, and between them they include almost 
the entire range of human thought. 

Without claiming that any finally conclusive demonstration 
has yet been afforded us of any of the phenomena described 
in the foregoing chapters — from telepathy to the return of the 
ghosts of the dead — there seems to be indubitably sufficient 



testimony to justify a suspension of that popular judgment 
which hitherto has been so definitely hostile to the hypothesis 
of the objective reality of these phantasmal apparitions^ _ All 
that I claim is, not that any one should admit that apparitions 
actually appear, but only that the evidence in favour of that 
hypothesis is too strong to justify any impartial person in re- 
fusing to consider and to investigate. That attitude of mind 
is irrational, and therefore unscientific ; and as this prides it- 
self upon being a scientific age, it may be hoped that the 
initiative so boldly taken by Professor Oliver Lodge at the last 
meeting of the British Association may be resolutely and per- 
sistently followed up. Of one thing we can fortunately feel no 
doubt. When scientific men include the unexplored region in 
the domain of their investigations, they will not make the silly 
complaint that no phenomena are genuine because there is an 
enormous overgrowth of pseudo-phenomena due to fraud and 
folly. Practical men never refuse to mine for gold, although, 
in order to extract an ounce of the precious metal, they have 
to crush a ton of worthless quartz. The proportion of genuine 
to merely imaginary or fraudulent phenomena is certainly not 
so small as that which exists between the pure metal and the 
reefs of auriferous stone in Australia, California, or the Trans- 
vaal. Neither will men of science object on the score that 
many of the phenomena are in themselves trivial and some- 
times almost imbecile They will remember the ridicule the 
scientists of his day poured upon Galvani for his experiments 
with frogs, and they will reflect that " the frog's dancing-master," 
together with one Benjamin Franklin, who experimented with 
kites on Boston Common, are to-day revolutionising the me- 
chanical world. The objection, that if there had been any- 
thing in these occult manifestations it would not have been left 
to us to find it out, will not even occur to those who remember 
that water had hissed when boiling into steam since fire and 
water first came together, but it was not till last century that 
James Watt saw in the power that lifted the kettle-lid the 
motor of commerce and the sceptre of civilisation. Telepathy, 
or thought transference without the use of the organs of sense, 
may be destined to play as great a part in the world as steam 
and electricity. That remains to be seen, and one solid prac- 
tical good that will come out of this book will be the im- 
petus which it will give to telepathic experiments. Anything 
that increases the mastery of mind over the limitations ot 
matter and space tends to the upward evolution of Man. 
After telepathy, the most practically useful truth that is 


suggested by the " Real Ghost Stories" is that of the existence 
of the Double. This ancient belief bids fair to be scientifically 
demonstrated as an actual fact. The day when a Double is 
photographed under test-conditions will mark the dawn of a 
new era of scientific discovery. The instantaneous transporta- 
tion of the Thought Body, instinct with consciousness, tan- 
gible, capable of speech, and preserving memory of its flight 
from place to place, is a conception so stupendous as to 
stagger the most daring imagination. It is as if we were trans- 
ported into space of four dimensions. Yet who can read the 
record of the appearance of Doubles, both before death and 
at other times, without feeling that the possibility of such 
latent powers existing in at least some human beings can no 
longer be dismissed as unthinkable ? Whether or not the ex- 
periments which I am conducting with a Double turn out 
successfully or not — they were not concluded in time for pub- 
lication in this Number — there seems to me sufficient evidence 
to justify a belief that in these phantasms of the living we have 
a clue to a great and as yet unworked mine of latent human 
capacity, which, if, like all other human faculties, it be capable 
of development by education and exercise, may yet prove an 
enormous agency in transforming society. 

The importance of the Double from a theological point of 
view was long ago recognised by the Fathers of the Church. 
Of this there is a familiar instance in the story told by S. 
Augustine about his friend Gennadius, a physician well-known 
at Carthage, who had a vision of a young man who conveyed 
him to a distant city, where he showed him many things. He 
appeared to him again at a later date, and was greeted by 
Gennadius, who reminded him of their former meeting. 
"Where is your body now?" the apparition inquired. "In 
my bed." " Do you know that now you see nothing with the 
eyes of your body ? " " I know it." " Well, then, with what 
eyes do you behold me?" As Gennadius hesitated and knew 
not what to reply, the young man said to him, " In the same 
way that you see and hear me now that your eyes are shut and 
your senses asleep, thus after your death you will live, see, 
hear, but with eyes of the spirit ; so doubt not that there is 
another life after the present one." 

It is rather curious to learn that this strange, incredible, and 
altogether preposterous phenomenon of the Double, if estab- 
lished, will merely be the scientific verification in the nine- 
teenth century of the old Catholic doctrine of Bi-Localion. 
When engaged in writing this chapter a German Doctor of 


Divinity, who had been on a mission to the United States, 
arrived in London on his way back to the Vatican. I had 
known him two or three years ago before he had entered holy 
orders, while he was still studying at Rome. Learned, enthu- 
siastic, and keenly intelligent, he listened with polite attention 
to the discussion of the so-called Thought Body. Then he 
said, "All this has been settled long ago. Why are you dis- 
turbing yourselves about it ? " " Now, how," said I, " and 
when ? " "If you will read the Roman Catechism, or the 
works of St. Thomas Aquinas, or even the Decrees of the 
Council of Trent, you will find that the Church has spoken, 
and there is nothing more to be said." " Well, what has the 
Church said about astral bodies ? " I said, rather curiously. 
"The teaching of the Church is that the phenomenon of bi- 
location is not natural, but is occasionally permitted by special 
grace, as in the case of certain well-known saints, or sometimes 
for other inscrutable reasons which are less advantageous to 
those who are the recipients of the favour, which is not natural, 
but distinctly supernatural. There you have a case of this 
phenomenon of Thought Body recorded in the history of the 
Church in connection with two of her most famous saints. 
Francesco Mariani tells us, in his ' Life of Loyola/ that, ' At 
the time that Ignatius was living at Rome, he appeared to 
Leonardo Clesselis at Cologne. Leonardo was a Fleming, 
and an aged old man, who was the first rector of the college id 
that city, and who governed it a long time with great reputa- 
tion of sanctity. He had a most fervent desire again to see 
the holy father, and to have the happiness of speaking with 
him ; he informed him of this desire in a letter, and begged, 
as a great favour, that he might journey over the 300 leagues 
which lay between them on foot. Ignatius answered that the 
welfare of others required his stay at Cologne, so that he must 
not move, but that perhaps it might please God to content him 
in some easier way. While he still remained at Cologne, one 
day when he was not asleep, the holy father showed himself to 
him alive and held a long conversation with him. He then 
disappeared and left the old man full of the greatest joy at the 
accomplishment of his desires in so marvellous a way.' 

" S. Athanasius — in his Life of S. Anthony — relates that 
while that saint was preaching in the Cathedral (presumably 
of Milan) he suddenly became entranced and on his return to 
consciousness stated that he had been attending the funeral of 
S. Martin of Tours, who, it was afterwards ascertained, had 
died at the time," 


"Then," said I, "may I take it for granted on your 
authority that the Catholic Church has stamped its imprimatur 
upon the doctrine of the dual body ? " " Not upon the doc- 
trine of the dual body," said the theologian, "but upon the 
doctrine of bi-location." " Which," said I, " is the same thing." 
" No, not quite," he said. " So near as to make no matter," 
said I. " But tell me, does bi-location allow the bi-located 
person to be intelligently conscious in both places at the same 
time ? " " No," said the doctor, " because the soul is one and 
not two." " But what about our dual personality ? " " That 
is all nonsense. The so-called dual personality is simply two 
phases of the one personality. No sound, sane psychologist, 
from the days of Aristotle to our own, has ever advocated such 
a figment as the duality of the soul. There may be on rare 
occasions, by Divine grace permitted, a duality of body, but a 
duality of soul, no, that is impossible ! " 

A Catholic priest writes to me as follows : — 
The o? ( the rine " With regard to bi-location, or double person- 

cathoiic ality, there is a great deal of very interesting 

church. matter - n g > xh omas f Aquin, and also in Car- 
dinal Cajetan's " Commentaries of S. Thomas." I had been 
hoping I should have had time to go through it— give you 
a good deal in modern English expressions — so as to make it 
interesting and intelligible to your readers, but I have not had 
the time. However, the substance of the principles is this : — 
Bi-location properly so-called, is defined by the scholastics as 
the perfect and simultaneous existence of one and the same 
individual in two distinct places at the same time. This never 
does and never can happen. But bi-location, improperly so- 
called, and which S. Thomas terms rapfus, does occur, and is 
identical with the double, as you call it, in the cases of Gen- 
nadius, S. Ignatius, etc. 

"S. Thomas quotes as illustrations or instances, S. Paul 
being taken up to the Third Heaven. Ezekiel, the prophet, 
was taken by God and shown Jerusalem, whilst at the same 
time he was sitting in the room with the ancients of the tribe 
of Judah before him (Ezekiel viii.), etc. In which the soul of 
man is not wholly detached from the body, being necessary for 
the purpose of giving life, but is detached from the senses 
of the body. S. Thomas gives three causes for this phenome- 
non : (i) Divine power; (2) the power of the Devil; and (3) 
disease of the body when very violent sometimes. 

" Cornelius a Lapide, in his ' Commentaries on the Scrip- 
ture/ has some interesting comments on this subject." 


The third benefit from this study has been the wonderful 
actuality which it gives to the familiar text, which says, " There 
is nothing hidden which shall not be revealed, and that the 
secrets of the innermost chamber will be proclaimed upon the 
housetops." The great invisible camera obscura on which 
there seems to be imprinted, as imperishably as in a mirror, 
all the words and acts of our life, what is it but the semblance 
of the books which, it is written, shall be opened at the Day 
of Judgment ? The clairvoyant vision of things past as if they 
had been actually in progress, and of things thousands of 
miles distant as if they had been in the street below our 
windows, gives one a wonderfully vivid realisation of the possi- 
bilities of the great day of final account. 

The greatest gain, however, that is likely to accrue from the 
study of the phenomena to which this volume is devoted, will 
arise from the deepened certainty which it gives as to the per- 
manence of the individual after death. Of immortality I say 
nothing. That cannot, from the nature of things, be demon- 
strated. But of a life after death — a life in which those who 
live on this side of the grave retain their identity in the other 
world — that may yet be demonstrated by tests as exact and as 
conclusive as any of which the science of psychology admits. 
The evidence and experiments of the Psychical Research 
Society have already shattered, for one at least of our acutest 
scientific minds, all purely materialistic hypotheses. When 
dust returns to dust and ashes to ashes, the Ego lives on ; the 
personal identity, the consciousness of the individual, does not 
seem to even be momentarily impaired. It does not seem to 
be too bold a speculation to believe that the patient methods 
of inductive science, the careful examination of evidence, and 
the repeatedly renewed experiments of investigators, will before 
long completely re-establish the failing belief in the reality of 
the world beyond the grave, and leave us with as little room 
for doubt as to the existence of the spirit after death as we 
have now for doubting the existence of Behring Straits or of 
the Pyramids. It is possible that this bringing of life and 
immortality to light, or at least the establishment of the cer- 
tainty of a future life upon impregnable scientific foundations, 
may seem to some by no means an unmixed blessing. To 
many it would undoubtedly add a new terror to death. The 
thought of a prolonged existence in a more spiritual sphere, 
where you would witness the working out of the dread con- 
sequences of the breach of laws and of the neglect of respon- 
sibilities, is often anything but attractive to the mind of man. 


To rest, and that for ever, even in the grave, seems sometimes 
the boon of boons. It would seem to be an unattainable 
one. For if the testimonies of many credible witnesses may be 
believed, there is no death. The form — the vesture— perishes, 
but the soul, the Ego, the essential principle, lives on. Reve- 
lation has always affirmed this. It seems as if Science were 
once more to vindicate her claim to be regarded as the hand- 
maid of Religion by affording conclusive demonstration of its 
reality. Whether we like this or dislike it is immaterial. The 
supreme question is, What is the truth? And whatever draw- 
backs there may be to the theory of the future life, there is at 
least one enormous compensating advantage in knowing that 
the accounts between man and his Maker are not finally closed 
when he ceases to breathe on earth, and that the Almighty has 
still the infinite expanse of eternity in which to vindicate the 
justice of His dealings with every human soul. 

Dutlsr & Tanner, The Sclwood Printing Works, Frome, and London. 

The Third Edition of 



The whole interspersed with various recipes, more or less original, and 
anecdotes mainly veracious. 

By EDWARD SPENCER (" Nathaniel Gubbins.") 
With Cover designed by PHIL MAY. 

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Liverpool Mercury. — " From cover to cover it abounds in choice morsels, and overflows 
with humour, with here and there some bits of real wisdom thrown in. . . . From 
every point of view this is a most readable book." 

Saturday Rez'iew.—" A book from which every restaurant keeper can, if he will, get 
hints enough to make a fortune. Sportsmen, stock-brokers, and others with large appe- 
tites, robust yet sensitive palates, and ample means, will find it invaluable when they are 
ordering the next little dinner for a select party of male friends." 

Daily Chronicle. — " This writer, like Montaigne and Pepys, belongs to the literary 
self-revealers ; his volume is interspersed with autobiographical scraps, and we only wish 
that there were more of them." 

Referee. —"What greater compliment can I pay to Mr. Edward Spencer's ' Cakes and 
Ale ' than to say that it positively makes me hungry to read of some of the dishes de- 
scribed in this most unconventional cookery-book ? . . . Mr. Spencer does not 
follow the general plan. He has original ideas on the subject of cookery, and he gives 
one the impression of having made the experiment in his own body the dishes he re- 
commends. ... At once the most readable and the most practical work of its kind 
I know." 

Sportsman. — " Much learning spiced with a pretty wit goes to the making of Mr. 
Edward Spencer's ' Cakes and Ale.' . . . The author is the well-known Nathaniel 
Gubbins, of the Sporting Times. His cakes include the highest and most delicate 
gastronomic triumphs, his ale the exquisite vintages of this fair round globe. ._ . . 
The book has literary merit, and a robust joyousnessthat is stimulating and entertaining. 
Of the making of cookery books there is no end. There was never one made before 
quite in this style. Would that there had been. However, this is now to be bought, 
and we can recommend our readers to buy it. They will get their money's worth, in- 
cluding a coyer an which Phil May has writ large a jolly chef's smiling headpiece." 

Now Ready. Price 3s. 6d. net, each. 


Fcap. Svo. Cloth. 
[Other volumes in the Series will be announced shortly.] 

Extract from Mr. Grant Allen's introduction to the Scries : — 

I desire rather to supply the tourist who wishes to use his travel as 
a means of culture with such historical and antiquarian information 
as will enable him to understand, and therefore to enjoy, the archi- 
tecture, sculpture, painting, and minor arts of the town he visits. 
In one word, it is my object to give the reader in a very compendious 
form the result of all those inquiries which have naturally suggested 
themselves to my ozvn mind during thirty-five years of foreign travel, 
the solution of which has cost myself a good deal of research, thought, 
and labour, beyond the facts which I could find in the ordinary 

Times. — " Good work in the way of showing students the right manner of 
approaching the history of a great city. . . . These useful little volumes." 

Birmingham Gazette. — "Not only admirable, but also, to the intelligent 
tourist, indispensable. ... Mr. Allen has the artistic temperament. . . . 
With his origins, his traditions, his art criticism, he goes to the heart of the 
matter, 'is "outspoken concerning those things he despises, and earnest when 
describing those in which his soul delights. . . . Both books are eminently 
interesting to the ordinary reader, whether he have travelled or not." 

Scotsman. — "Those who travel for the sake of culture will be well catered for 
in Mr. Grant Allen's new series of Historical Guides. . . . There are few 
more satisfactory books for a student who wishes to dig out the Paris of the past 
from the immense superincumbent mass of coffee-houses, kiosks, fashionable 
hotels, and other temples of civilization beneath which it is now submerged. 
Florence is more easily dug up, as you have only to go into the picture galleries 
or into the churches or museums, whither Mr. Allen's Guide accordingly con- 
ducts you, and tells you what to look at if you want to understand the rare 
treasures of the city. The books, in a word, explain rather than describe. . . . 
Such books are wanted nowadays. . . . The more sober minded among 
tourists will be grateful to him for the skill with which the new series promises 
to minister to their needs." 

Mr. L. F. Austin in the Sketch. — "His 'Paris' is certainly an admirable 
example of what a purely aesthetic handbook should be, for it is clearly arranged, 
and written with that ease and intricacy which are born of sympathy and 

9, Henrietta Street, Covent Garden, London. 


This List includes Books by Grant Allen, 
Miss Alma Tadema, G. B. Burgin, 
Edward Clodd, George Egerton, George 
Fleming, R. Murray Gilchrist, Vernon 
Lee, Eugene Lee-Hamilton, Richard le 
Gallienne, Maurice Maeterlinck, Leonard 
Merrick, Mrs. Meynell, Will Roth ens tein, 
G. Bernard Shaw, W. T. Stead, W. J. 
Stillman, and Sidney Webb. 

For the convenience of 
Booksellers a List of 
these Books classified 
according to price ap- 
pears at the end of the 

Autumn, 1897 


The Evolution of the Idea of God : an Inquiry 
into the Origins of Religions. Demy 8vo. Cloth. 
20s. net. 

Grant Allen's Historical Guides : 

Paris. \Ready. 

Florence. „ 

The Cities of Belgium. „ 

Venice. [In preparation. 

Rome. „ 

Fcap. 8vo. Cloth. 3s. 6d. each, net. 

' ' Good work in the way of showing students the right manner of approaching the 
history of a great city. . . . These useful little volumes." — Times. 

"Those who travel for the sake of culture will be well catered for in Mr. Grant 
Allen's new series of historical guides. . . . There are few more satisfactory books 
for a student who wishes to dig out the Paris of the past from the immense super- 
incumbent mass of coffee-houses, kiosks, fashionable hotels, and other temples of 
civilisation, beneath which it is now submerged. Florence is more easily dug up, as 
you have only to go into the picture galleries, or into the churches or museums, 
whither Mr. Allen's guide accordingly conducts you, and tells you what to look at 
if you want to understand the art treasures of the city. The books, in a word, 
explain rather than describe. Such books are wanted nowadays. . . . The more 
sober-minded among tourists will be grateful to him for the skill with which the new 
series promises to minister to their needs." — Scotsman. 

" Mr. Grant Allen, as a traveller of thirty-five years experience in foreign lands, 
is well qualified to command success in the task he has set himself, and nothing in 
the two volumes under notice is more striking than the strong sense conveyed of his 
powers of observation and the facility with which he describes the objects of art and 
the architectural glories which he has met and lingered over. ... It would be a 
pity indeed were his assiduous researches and the fruits of his immense experience, 
now so happily exemplified, to pass unnoticed either by ' globe trotters ' or by 
students of art and history who have perforce to stay at home." — Daily Telegraph. 

" No traveller going to Florence with any idea of understanding its art treasures, 
can afford to dispense with Mr. Grant Allen's guide. He is so saturated with in- 
formation gained by close observation and close study. He is so candid, so sincere, 
so fearless, so interesting, and his little book is so portable and so pretty." — Queen. 

" That much abused class of people, the tourists, have often been taunted with 
their ignorance and want of culture, and the perfunctory manner in which they hurry 
through, and ' do ' the Art Galleries of Europe. There is a large amount of truth, no 
doubt, but they might very well retort on their critics that no one had come forward to 
meet their wants, or assist in dispelling their ignorance. No doubt there are guide- 
books, very excellent ones in their way, but on all matters of art very little better than 
mere indices ; something fuller was required to enable the average man intelligently to 
appreciate the treasures submitted to his view. Mr. Grant Allen has offered to meet 
their wants, and offers these handbooks to the public at a price that ought to be with- 
in the reach of every one who can afford to travel at all. The idea is a good one, and 
should insure the succflfes which Mr. Allen deserves." — Morning Post. . 

" Not only admirable, but also, to the intelligent tourist, indispensable. . . . Mr. 
Allen has the artistic temperament. . . . With his origins, his traditions, his art 
criticisms, he goes to the heart of the matter, is outspoken concerning those things he 
despises, and earnest when describing those in which his soul delights. . . . The 
books are genuinely interesting to the ordinary reader, whether he have travelled 
or not, and unlike the ordinary guide-book may be read with advantage both before 
and after the immediate occasion of their use." — Birmingham Gazette. 


Grant Richards s Publications 

An African Millionaire : Episodes in the Life of 
the Illustrious Colonel Clay. With over Sixty Illus- 
trations by Gordon Browne. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 
6s. \Fifth Edition. 

"It is not often that the short story of this class can be made as attractive and 
as exciting as are many of the Colonel's episodes. Let us be thankful for these, and 
hasten to commend ' An African Millionaire ' to the notice of all travellers. We can 
imagine no book of the season more suitable for an afternoon in a hammock or a 
lazy day in the woods. And the capital illustrations help an excellent dozen of stories 
on their way." — Daily Chronicle. 

" For resourcefulness, for sardonic humour, for a sense of the comedy of the situa- 
tion, and for pluck to carry it through, it would be difficult to find a more entertain- 
ing scoundrel than Colonel Clay." — Daily News. 

" A volume which, excepting to those devoid of humour, will have afforded some 
wholly genuine amusement." — Morning Post. 

" The interest of the book never flags, and it is perfectly clean and wholesome, no 
book of detective stories could be more suited for drawing-room reading." — Queen. 

"When Mr. Grant Allen is not elevating the human mind, but only instructing or 
amusing it, one knows few pleasanter writers. He is equally at home with the 
scientific essay, or the short story, and by no means holds a back seat as a novelist. 
This book is a good example of his talents. It is only a collection of tales describing 
how a very rich man is again and again victimised by the same adventurer, but it 
has not only plenty of dramatic incident, but of shrewd and wise reflection, such as 
is seldom found in the modern novel." — Mr. James Payn, in the Illustrated London 


Realms of Unknown Kings : Poems. Fcap. 8vo. 
Paper Covers. 2s. net. Buckram. 3s. net. 

(See Henrietta Volumes.) 


" Old Man's " Marriage : A Novel. (A Sequel to 
"The Judge of the Four Corners.") Crown 8vo. 
Cloth. 6s. 

" Mr. Burgin's best qualities come to the front in ' " Old Man's" Marriage.' . . . 
Miss Wilkes has nearly as much individuality as any one in the story, which is saying 
a good deal, fur reality seems to gather round all the characters in spite of the 
romance that belongs to them as well . . . the story is fresh and full of charm." — 

"Mr. Burgin's humour is both shrewd and kindly, and his book should prove as 
welcome as a breath of fresh air to the weary readers of realistic fiction." — Daily 

"'Old Man's' Marriage is told with such humour, high-spirit, simplicity, and 
straightforwardness that the reader is amused and entertained from the first page to 
the last. Once I had begun it I had to go on to the en* ; when I put it down 
it was with a sigh to part with such excellent company. ... As thoroughly enjoy- 
able and racily written a story as has been published for a long time." — Mr. Coulson 
Kernahan in the Star. 

" It would be difficult to speak too highly of the delicate pathos and humour of 
this beautiful sketch of a choice friendship in humble life. ... A study at once 
simple and subtle and full of the dignity and sincerity of natural man." — Manchester 

Grant Richards s Publications 

CLIFFORD, HUGH (British Resident at Pahang). 

In Court and Kampong : being Tales and Sketches 
of Native Life in the Malay Peninsula. Large 
Crown 8vo. Cloth. 7s. 6d. 

"The chief aim is to portray character, to reveal to the European thoughts, passions, 
and aspirations which unfold themselves but slowly even to him who for long years 
has lived the life of his Asiatic associates in places remote from the sound of western 
civilisation. ... In this effort Mr. Clifford has achieved a considerable success ; and 
as he writes also in a bright style, which has a distinctly literary flavour, his work is 
not less welcome for the information which it gives than interesting as a story- 
book. " — A thenceum. 

"Mr. Clifford undoubtedly possesses the gift of graphic description^ in a high 
degree, and each one of these stories grips the reader's attention most insistently. 
The whole book is alive with drama and passion ; but, as we have said, its greatest 
charm lies in the fact that it paints in strikingly minute detail a state of things which, 
whether for good or ill, is rapidly vanishing from the face of the earth." — Speaker. 

" These tales Mr. Clifford tells with a force and life-likeness such as is only to be 
equalled in the stories of Rudyard Kipling. Take, for instance, the gruesome story 
of the were-tiger, man by day and man-eater by night. . . . Every one of these tales 
leaves its impression, dramatic yet lifelike. Moreover, they are valuable as giving 
a picture of strange, distorted civilisation which, under the influence of British 
residents and officials, will soon pass away or hide itself jealously from the gaze of 
Western eyes."— Pall Mall Gazette. 


Pioneers of Evolution from Thales to Huxley, 

with an intermediate chapter on the Causes of Arrest 
of the Movement. With portraits in photogravure 
of Charles Darwin, Professor Huxley, Mr. A. R. 
Wallace, and Mr. Herbert Spencer. Crown 8vo. 
Linen. 5s. net. [Second Edition. 

" We are always glad to meet Mr. Edward Clodd. He is never dull ; he is always 
well informed, and he says what he has to say with clearness and incision. . . . The 
interest intensifies as Mr. Clodd attempts to show the part really played in the growth 
of the doctrine of evolution by men like Wallace, Darwin, Huxley, and Spencer. Mr. 
Clodd clears away prevalent misconceptions as to the work of these modern pioneers. 
Especially does he give to Mr. Spencer the credit which is his due, but which is often 
mistakenly awarded to Darwin. Mr. Clodd does not seek in the least to lower Darwin 
from the lofty pedestal which he rightly occupies ; he only seeks to show precisely why 
he deserves to occupy such a position. We commend the book to those who want to 
know what evolution really means ; but they should be warned beforehand that they 
have to tackle strong meat." — Times. 

" The goal to which Mr. Clodd leads us in so masterly a fashion in the present 
volume is but the starting-point of fresh achievements, and, in due course, fresh 
theories. His book furnishes an important contribution to a liberal education." — 
Daily Chronicle. 

" There is no better book on the subject for a general reader, and while its matter 
is largely familiar to professed students of science, and indeed to most men who are 
well read, no one could go through the book without being both refreshed and newly 
instructed by its masterly survey of the growth of the most powerful idea of modern 
times." — Scotsman. 


1. The Flamp, the Ameliorator, and the 
Schoolboy's Apprentice : Three Stories. By- 
Edward Verrall Lucas. 


Grant Richards s Publications 

2. Mrs. Turner's Cautionary Stories. Edited, 
with a Chapter on Bad and Good Children, by 
Edward Verrall Lucas. 

With end-papers designed by Mrs. Farmiloe. i8mo. 
Cloth, is. 6d. each. 


Detached : a Novel. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 6s. 

[In preparation. 


i. The Rudeness of the Honourable Mr. 

2. A Homburg Story. 

3. Cui Bono. 

By Gordon Seymour. i6mo. Buckram. 2s. each. 

"The stories are remarkable for their originality, their careful characterisation, 
their genuine thoughtfulness, and the sincerity of their purpose. They certainly 
open up a fresh field of thought on the problems set by the philosopher of the super- 
ficial, problems which, though they seem to lie on the surface, strike their roots deep 
down into human life ; and they make us think for ourselves (though perhaps some- 
what gropingly), which is more than can be said for the general run of modern 
novels."— Pall Mall Gazette. 

"An able and well written little bit of fiction. . . . Amongst the short descriptive 
portions of the book there are some excellent examples of graceful prose, and if the 
dialogues occasionally resolve themselves into disquisitions on life and society too 
elaborate for the reader who is chiefly concerned to get the story, they will repay the 
reader who can appreciate the analysis of delicate shades of thought and feeling." — 
A berdeen Free Press. 

"The book is altogether an ingenious one, and is also interesting as being a kind 
of modern revival of the old-time ' moral tales ' and other old-fashioned ways of com- 
bining instruction with entertainment." — Perthshire Advertiser. 


Little Stories about Women. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 
3s. 6d. 

" All novel readers must welcome the decision which has caused these stories, many 
of which are gems, to appear in volume form. . . . Story is hardly the name to em- 
ploy in the case of these impressionist pictures. They have the suggestive merit of 
the school and none of its vagueness." — Morning Post. 

" It is impossible to read ' Little Stories about Women ' without a feeling of blank 
astonishment that their author should be so very little more than a name to the read- 
ing public. ... It is difficult to imagine anything better in its way — and its way is 
thoroughly modern and up to date — than the first of the collection, ' By Accident.' 
It is very short, very terse, but the whole story is suggested with admirable art. 
There is nothing unfinished about it, and the grip with which the carriage accident 
which opens it is presented never relaxes." — World. 


(See Sylvan Series.) 

Grant Richards s Publications 


The Cub in Love : in Twelve Twinges j with Six 
additional Stories. By R. S. Warren Bell. With 
Cover by Maurice Greiffenhagen. Tauchnitz size, 
is. 6d. {Copies also obtainable in Cloth. 2s.) 

"Light and amusing withal is Mr. Warren Bell's sketch of a very young man 
suffering from the bitter-sweet of an unrequited affection. . . . The Cub seems to be 
a near relation of Dolly (of the ' Dolly Dialogues '), and the sprightliness of his 
dialogue makes him worthy of the kinship." — Pall Mall Gazette. 

" Under the title 'The Cub in Love' Mr. Grant Richards sends out the first of 
a series of light stories to be styled ' The Henrietta Volumes.' The writer is Mr. 
R. S. Warren Bell, and his bright colloquial style, lightened by flashes of wit and 
abundant humour, makes this story of the love-sickness of a healthy well-to-do young 
Englishman infinitely entertaining. . . . The book makes excellent reading for 
travelling or a holiday, or, indeed, for any occasion on which amusement is the thing 
desired. If the subsequent volumes of the Henrietta series are up to this standard, 
there need be no question of their success." — Scotsman. 

"This is one of the most brightly written books we have read for some time. . . . 
We cannot conceive a more enjoyable book for a couple of hours' reading at the sea- 
side." — Belfast Evening Telegraph. 

H.R.H. the Prince of Wales: an Account of His 
Career, including his Birth, Education, Travels, 
Marriage and Home Life, and Philanthropic, Social, 
and Political Work. Royal 8vo. Cloth. 7 s. 6d. 
With over Sixty Portraits and other Illustrations. 


The Ethics of Browning's Poems. With Intro- 
duction by the Bishop of Winchester. Fcap. 8vo. 
Cloth. 2s. 6d. 


Limbo and other Essays: with Frontispiece. 
Fcap. 8vo. Buckram. 5 s. net. 

"The brilliant and versatile writer who adopts the pseudonym of Vernon Lee 
affords a dainty feast to her readers in this charming little volume." — Times. 

" For charm, that 'delicate and capricious foster-child of leisure,' Vernon Lee's 
latest work, small as it is, is the equal of anything that she has yet produced." — 
Morning Post. 

"This little volume might be called a manual of the cultivated soul adventuring 
among masterpieces of art and natural beauties. It brings to the enjoyment of these 
a power of association which traverses seas and j'ears, and refreshes the mind with 
images summoned from the recesses of memory. They are pitched in a pleasant 
conversational way, frankly, even daringly, personal, and are strewn with vivid 
descriptions of Italian scenes and places. ... A quiet strain of genuine feeling and 
genuine discernment runs through these essays, and it would be thankless to deny 
their charm as companions for a summer afternoon." — Manchester Guardian. 

" 'Limbo and other Essays' is amongst the most welcome of recent books. . . . 
Few essayists see so many beautiful things as Vernon Lee, and fewer still, having 
seen them, say so many beautiful things about them." — Mr. Richard le Gallienne 
in the Star. 

Grant Richards s Publications 


The Inferno of Dante translated into English 
Verse. Fcap. 8vo. Cloth. 5 s. 


Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam : a Paraphrase from 
several Literal Translations. From the press of 
Messrs. T. and A. Constable of Edinburgh. Long 
Fcap. 8vo. Parchment. 5s. Also a very limited 
Edition on Japanese vellum, numbered and signed 
by the author. 15 s. net. 


Convict 99 : a Novel. With Eight full-page Illus- 
trations by Stanley L. Wood. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 
3s. 6d. 


Bishops of the Day : a Biographical Dictionary of 
the Archbishops and Bishops of the Church of 
England, and of All Churches in Communion 
therewith throughout the World. Fcap. 8vo. 
Cloth. 5 s. 

"While the assembly of nearly 200 Bishops of the Anglican Communion at the 
Lambeth Conference makes the publication of the volume at the present time 
especially opportune, Mr. Lowndes's work is likely to command a more permanent 
interest. It gives a full and lucid sketch of the career of each Bishop, without any 
suggestion of partisan bias on the part of the author." — Times. 

" Few works of reference could be more acceptable to Churchmen of the present 
time. . . . Plenty of dates of the right sort, as well as matters of more human 
interest. " — Guardian. 

" The work is thoroughly up to date, as one may see from the Episcopal events ot 
1896 and 1897 here recorded. It abounds in personal incidents and anecdotes not to 
be found elsewhere, and evidently derived from original and accredited sources. . . . 
Much valuable information on Church matters generally incidental to Episcopal 
administration." — Morning Post. 

" Mr. Lowndes has spared no pains to make his compendium as perfect as 
possible. . . . This book is, as far as we can know, the first of the kind that has 
been published, and supplies, in good time, a want that would have soon become 
urgent. " — Standard. 

"Valuable for reference on account of much of the information contained in the 
neatly got-up volume being supplied by the prelates themselves." — World. 

"The book should be bought and read at once. There is no Churchman whom it 
will not interest, and it contains a sufficiency of blank spaces to admit of MS. addi- 
tions, which may record the inevitable changes brought about by death or by 
translation. Mr. Lowndes deserves our very cordial thanks for a piece of work 
which few would have undertaken, and none could have achieved more perfectly." — 
Sheffield Daily Telegraph. 


Grant Richards s Publications 


A Book of Verses for Children : an Anthology. 
With Cover, title-page, and end-papers designed 
in colours by F. D. Bedford. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 

"The principle of this Anthology, Mr. Lucas explained at length in the Fort- 
nightly Review for September 1896, in an article entitled ' Some Notes on Poetry for 
Children.' The Daily Chronicle, commenting in a leading article on this, says, 
1 Very wise, as well as very witty notes they are. ... If the new ' Child's An- 
thology ' is going to be up to sample, we should like to subscribe to a copy in advance. 
. . . Why should not Mr. Lucas compile it himself? No one, clearly, is better fitted 
for the task." 

{See also Dumpy Books for Children.) 


Aglavaine and Selysette : a Drama in Five Acts. 
Translated by Alfred Sutro. With Introduction by 
J. W. Mackail, and Title-page designed by W. H. 
Margetson. Globe 8vo. Half-buckram. 2 s. 6d. net. 

" To read the play is to have one's sense of beauty quickened and enlarged, to be 
touched by the inward and spiritual grace of things. . . . Mr. Sutro is the most 
conscientious, and at the same time the most ambitious, of translators ; not content 
with reproducing the author's thought, he strives after the same effect of language — 
the plaintive note, the dying cadence, the Maeterlincked sweetness long drawn out. 
And more often than not he succeeds, — which is saying a good deal when one con- 
siders the enormous difficulties of the task."— Mr. A. B. Walkley, in the Speaker. 

"The book is a treasury of beautiful things. No one now writing loves beauty as 
M. Maeterlinck does. Sheer, essential beauty has no such lover. He will have 
nothing else." — Academy 

" Mr. Alfred Sutro's careful and delicate translation of Mr. Maurice Maeterlinck's 
new play gives readers of English every opportunity of appreciating a work which, 
so to speak, is at the tip of the century. . . . The book, as a whole, is perhaps the 
best yet published by which an English-speaking stranger to M. Maeterlinck could 
make his acquaintance." — Scotsman. 


One Man's View : a Novel. Crown 8vo. Cloth 
3s. 6d. 

"A novel over which we could at a pinch fancy ourselves sitting up till the small 
hours. . . . The characters are realised, the emotion is felt and communicated." — 
Daily Chronicle. 

" An uncommonly well written story. . . . The men in the book are excellent, and 
the hero . . . is an admirable portrait." — Standard. 

" Mr ; Leonard Merrick's work is exceptionally good : his style is literary, he has 
insight into character, and he can touch on delicate matters without being coarse or 
unpleasantly suggestive. ' One Man's View ' is keenly interesting. . . . ' One Man's 
View ' is one of those rare books in which, without a superfluous touch, each character 
stands out clear and individually. It holds the reader's attention from first to last." — 

" Mr. Merrick's fascinating story — a story written in a vivacious style, containing 
man}' humorous and pathetic passages, and pervaded throughout by a high and 
pure tone. . . . There is not a dull passage in the story, and the character of the 
brave, unselfish, magnanimous barrister is admirably drawn." — Aberdeen Free Press. 

Grant Richards s Publications 


The Flower of the Mind : a Choice among the 
best Poems. With Cover designed by Lawrence 
Housman. Crown 8vo. Buckram. 6 s. 

"Partial collections of English poems, decided by a common subject or bounded 
by the dates and periods of literary history, are made more than once in every year, 
and the makers are safe from the reproach of proposing their own personal taste as a 
guide for the reading of others. But a general Anthology gathered from the whole 
of English literature — the whole from Chaucer to Wordsworth — by a gatherer intent 
upon nothing except the quality of poetry, is a more rare attempt." — Extract from 


English Portraits : a Series of Lithographed 
Drawings. With short texts by various hands. 

Part I. — Sir Frederick Pollock j Mr. Thomas 

Part II. — Sir F. Seymour Haden ; Mr. William 

Part III.— Rt. Rev. Dr. Creighton, Bishop of 

London ; Marchioness of Granby. 
Part IV.— Mr. W. E. H. Lecky, P.C., M.P. ; Mr. 

John Sargent, R.A. 
Part V.— Mr. W. E. Henley; Mr. A. W. Pinero. 
Part VI. — Miss Ellen Terry ; Mr. Sidney Colvin. 
[T/iese parts are now ready. 

In Twelve Parts, each in a Wrapper arranged by the Artist. 2s. 6d. 
each, net ; or, the subscription to the Series of Twelve, post free with 
a Case for binding, designed by the Artist, 30s. net. 

" Admirably life-like, . . . and the style of publication makes it very attractive. " 
— Speaker. 

" The drawings are lithographs, rough sketches rather than elaborate drawings, but 
they show that Mr. Rothenstein has thoroughly mastered his method and knows how 
to use it with most commendable self-restraint. They are admirable examples of the 
style of drawing which he has made his own, and which has much to recommend it. 
The drawings are accompanied by the briefest personal paragraphs." — Scotsman. 

" The portraits, which are of a large portfolio size, are vivid likenesses, and their 
appearance is a gratifying indication of the revival of lithography in fine art." — 
Aberdeen Free Press. 

"The introductory examples fulfil to the full the promises made in the publisher's 
announcements, and it is certain that the series will be keenly appreciated by art 
lovers." — Dundee Advertiser. 


The Laughter of Jove : a Novel. Crown 8vo. 
Cloth. 6s. 


Grant Richards s Publications 


(See Ethics of the Surface Series.) 


Plays, Pleasant and Unpleasant. 

I. Unpleasant. 
II. Pleasant. 

These Volumes will contain all Mr. Shaw's Dramatic 
work, acted and unacted, with special Introductions, 
and Prefaces to Each Play. Fcap. 8vo. Cloth. 
5 s. each. 

(See also Politics in 1896.) 


Poems by A. and L. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 5s. net. 

SPENCER, EDWARD ("Nathaniel Gubbins.") 

Cakes and Ale : a Memory of Many Meals ; the 
whole interspersed with various recipes, more or 
less original, and anecdotes, many veracious. With 
cover designed by Phil May. Small 4to. Cloth. 5 s. 

[Third Edition. 

" A book from which every restaurant-keeper can, if he will, get ideas enough to 
make a fortune. Sportsmen, stock-brokers and others with large appetites, robust 
yet sensitive palates, and ample means, will find it invaluable when they are ordering 
the next little dinner for a select party of male friends." — Saturday Review. 

"Exceedingly readable, clever, and, moreover, highly informative. . . . From 
racy chapter to racy chapter the reader is irresistibly carried on. . . . The^mistress 
of the house will read it carefully for the sake of the valuable recipes and hints, and 
mine host will esteem it for the smart style in which it is written, and for the 
plenitude of humour displayed in anecdote, story, and reminiscence." — Dundee 

•'Allow me to say that it is a little book on a great subject that deserves to 
occupy an honourable place in every library, on the same shelf as Kettner's ' Book of 
the Table,' Sala's 'A Thorough Good Cook,' and perhaps that over-praised but un- 
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Sporting Life. 

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bride." — Ladys Pictorial. 

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Real Ghost Stories: A Revised Reprint of the 
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"Review of Reviews," 1891-92. With new Intro- 
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The Old Rome and the New, and Other 
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A Peakland Faggot : Tales told of Milton Folk. 
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readers better counsel than in advising them to procure without delay this charming 
and cheery volume." — Speaker. 

"We have no hesitation in saying that this is the very best work which Mr. 
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' A Peakland Faggot ' will solidify that reputation which he has been steadily building 
up of late years. The style is thoroughly poetic. . . . Our hearty congratulations to 
Mr. Murray Gilchrist upon this performance — the magic he has used is the magic of 
true genius." — Birmingham Gazette. 

"The writer who gives us glimpses into the psychology of the poor and illiterate 
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world of profound human interest." — Mr. T. P. O'Connor, in the Graphic. 

" I have read no book outside Mr. Hardy's so learned in such minutiae of country 
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Paul's Stepmother, and One Other Story. 

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" It is with a genuine feeling of pleasure that the reader will linger over ' Paul's 
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(See Dumpy Books for Children.) 

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The Subconscious Self and its Relation to 
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Tom, Unlimited : A Story for Children. With 
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Labour in the Longest Reign (1837 -1897). 

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Politics in 1896. With Contributions by H. D. 
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calls for recognition as a record of the development of political thought, that, if 
regularly issued, will be of value to the future historian. . . . The book has attrac- 
tions for those who wish to understand the various ideas actuating contending parties, 
and such readers will certainly find entertaining matter in the several contributions." 
— Morning Post 

"Mr. Whelen has undertaken a difficult task, but the volume which he has just 
issued is a very interesting and useful retrospect, and all who are interested in con- 
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is simple and comprehensive. ... Mr. Whelen has done a useful work in starting 
this adventure, and we wish him all success." — Daily Chronicle. 

" Those who can afford it, which includes at least every Labour Club, ought to 
possess a copy for their library." — Mr. Keir Hardie, in the Labour Leader. 


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The London - Lover's Enchiridion : An Anth- 
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The Tenth Island ; Being some Account of New- 
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Labour in the Longest Reign (1837-1897). 

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The Cub in Love. (Paper.) 

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Realms of Unknown Kings. 

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Paul's Stepmother. 

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Grant Allen's Historical Guides. 

I. Paris. 

II. Florence. 

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IV. Venice. [In Preparation. 
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The Old Rome and the New. 

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The Evolution of the Idea of God. 



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